


Bloodtrails Dried by the Sun

by BeautifullyEmotionalTeen



Series: Tales of the Desert Revolution [1]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Better Living Industries, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Sinners, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Youngbloods - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 10:33:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 56,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8159045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifullyEmotionalTeen/pseuds/BeautifullyEmotionalTeen
Summary: Everybody knows what it means to be out thereYou need to be prepared, for sleepless nights, for when the fear keeps you awake.After a while you get used to the pain, the heat and the hunger.That's the price you'll have to pay for your freedom.Killjoys, Youngbloods and Sinners know that they need to be prepared to lose someone. To lose their lives for the cause.But that doesn't make it any easier when it actually happens.





	1. Love is a Privilege

**Author's Note:**

> A look into the situation outside of battery city

It had been a while since Party Poison was awake this early. Recently he had been sleeping pretty well, much to his own surprise. Star had joked about how he was slowly running out of gas and was sure to suddenly stop working in the middle of the desert. 

His comrades were still in bed, enjoying a quiet, dreamless sleep. As for himself, his body had refused to keep on resting, and his mind decided to go for a walk and get lost in the infinity of his thoughts. The sky was starting to turn a light orange as the sun began to rise in between the sand dunes. 

Party was sitting in a booth, at the diner he called home. It was an old dusty place, but it had become more than just a simple hideout. It was full of memories, good and bad. 

Few moments later Party realized he wasn't the only one awake at such early morning. He heard shuffling and soft steps, the jingling of keys. 

"Sneaking out?" he asked, not even turning around, already knowing who it was. 

"What are you doing up?" his little brother questioned. 

"What are YOU doing up?" he asked back, smirking at the annoyed expression on the other's face. 

Kobra Kid was standing in the middle of his way to the door, wearing his full attire, the raygun visible in the hem of his pants. He was holding his helmet, and his hair was pushed back in an attempt to stylish it. 

"This isn't mom's place anymore" Kobra argued. "I'm not a kid either."

"Well..." Party said. "You're still my little brother.  But it's not like I'm gonna stop you from seeing your boyfriend."

"Party" he said. Kobra hated that his brother did that. It was like their Mom, disinterested attitude to temp him into desobeying. But it wasn't a bad thing, right? "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can, I'm not saying anything."

"Why do you hate him so much?"

"I don't hate him!" he grunted, seeing Kobra role his eyes. "What I hate is you going out alone."

"He lives far away Gee, what can I do" he sighed and slippped into a chair besides his brother.  "I know is dangerous, but... "

"You love him" Party said, an unknown feeling in his voice. "Love is a privilage, Mikey."

He knew his brother was serious, his eyes lost in the wildness of his thoughts. It made him feel a little bad. 

"Come here" he said, and embraced his brother into a tight hug, that lasted a couple moments. He could feel his brother's breathing and the worry irradiating from him. 

When they separated, Party looked into his brother's eyes and said. 

"Be careful, okay? You have to come back."

"I'm always careful. I'll come back tomorrow. I always do."

"What do you mean 'always'?" 

It was now Kobra's turn to smile. "You don't know how many times I've sneaked out without any of you noticing." 

Party rolled his eyes. That was his brother.  He then gave him a cheeky grin. 

"The whole day? Is someone getting lucky?" Kobra rolled his eyes, but Party could see the slight blush on his cheeks.  
"None of your business" he said, putting his helmet over his head and walking towards the door. They exchanged one last sign of goodbye, and Kobra stepped into the desert. 

He walked towards the dusty-looking motorcycle, staring at the little sand lines his feet made. He kick-started the bike and felt the vibration of it as it came to life. Kobra stared at the abandoned-looking diner, and a smile crept onto his face. 

He lowered his visor even though it kind of compromised his sight. He rather lower his visibility than get sand in his eyes. 

Kobra Kid drove through the sandy roads, towards his boyfriend's house.


	2. A Killjoy in Love with a Youngblood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kobra drives all the way into the Youngblood's lair to see his lover, having conflictive feelings on the road. But in the end, he would have to face them.

As he drove through the sandy roads, feeling the sharp air dig into his jacket, Party's words just wouldn't stop spinning around in his head.  
"You love him".

He had met a short, raven-haired guy with soft brown eyes called Black Believer in a rebel reunion, along with his own gang called the Youngbloods. Kobra wasn't really a 'social' kind of person, but that guy had caught his attention with his eccentric personality. 

As his brother was busy with planning a big strike against Better Living Industries, he had gotten to know Believer quite well. There was... Something about him that seemed weirdly attractive, and the way he fought and cared for his partners, specially that equally short blond named American Phoenix... had Mikey himself feeling something warm in his chest. 

At first he didn't believe he had a crush on Believer. He tried to convince himself that Black Believer and American Phoenix were dating. But then he realized their relationship was more like what he had with Party. Believer was outgoing, liked to flirt with people, that's what Kobra told himself.

But then they had to go into battle. When you're fighting there's an adrenaline rush, and if you're fighting with people by your side, they become a part of you. They become a community. A group of people fighting for a cause and willing to jump infront of a ray to save someone. Willing to bury, mourn and avange the ghosted. Kobra was a skillful fighter, agile and precise with the raygun, and still Black Believer fought back to back with him. 

That was when their bond became an actual thing, not just a product of Kobra's imagination. When the battle had died out, Believer placed his hand on the back of his head and pulled him towards him, crashing their lips together. It was a passionate kiss, with both of them dusty and with superficial wounds, hair drenched in sweat and exhausted. 

It had sent a wave of sensations through Kobra's body, he never could have imagined what being kissed felt like, what kissing another's chapped lips felt like. It had become an addiction almost instantly, and they would have gone on right in that place, not caring about the others for a second. 

Kobra was the one to pull away, to catch his breath. He saw Believer's sparkly eyes, before they fluttered shut and the Youngblood passed out onto the floor. Kobra had been worried for a second, until American Phoenix came along and told him something among the lines of "he does that a lot".

Since then Believer had stopped by their diner, his excuse being that he was always tired of the runs for supplies he did in the farther Zones. Party didn't really buy his excuses, and Ghoul knew something was up, but neither of them said a thing. 

"You kissed me" Kobra had said, and Believer had just smirked at him 

"Yeah, I did. Want me to do it again, Mikeyway?"

Kobra had frozen in place, hearing his real name escape from the short guy's lips. How had he found out? It was really dangerous for a stranger to know your real name... But Believer was no stranger, it still made him feel uneasy. 

Seeing Kobra's stunned expression, Believer had rolled his eyes and said:

"What I'm trying to say is that I like you, idiot. If that wasn't clear"

Why would anyone like him that way? He barely smiled, he didn't sleep and was practically running on fumes all the time, he had a really short temper, only thing he knew was how to kill... Even though all of that was true, Believer kept looking at him as if he was something... Valuable. Precious. And Kobra grew to love feeling that way.  

It was hard, to keep happy in the Zones. And Believer made him feel happy. Made him feel important. And he wanted to make Believer happy as well.  

"Name's Pete, Kid" he had whispered, his hand lingering on Kobra's arm and then he left.

Since then Kobra had made little trips between the diner and the Youngblood's lair, back and forth. All of them to see Believer. To see Pete. 

It happened a lot that the real name meant a total different person. Kobra Kid was not the same as Mikey Way.

Although they were in the same body, they were different persona. One's real name was always more intimate, more of a person with hopes and dreams than a rebel with a cause. 

Him and Pete became really close, until they were practically dating. They kissed a lot and touched each other frecuently, but it was a while until Pete said something like "you're my boyfriend, you deserve my full attention".

It was a first for Mikey, the whole boyfriend experience. The sexual experience was also a first. It had been at Pete's house, in his room, very late at night. The sensations that rocked his body that night were indescribable. Everytime he thought about it, his mind would fill with blurry images and different memories, like how soft Pete's hands were, the feeling of his tongue all over his skin, the dull pain, his whole self writhing under him, waves of pleasure making him go crazy...

But did he love him? After thinking about it the whole ride, he came to an answer: yes. Yes, he loved the Youngblood known as Black Believer.  More importantly, he loved Pete Wentz. They had never told that to each other though. Maybe it was time for Pete to know how deep his feelings were. 

But what if he didn't feel the same way? What if he said "I love you" and Pete didn't say it back? What if instead he just stayed there in a stunned silence? He tried to wipe the doubt out of his mind, but the uneasy feeling was still there when he parked the bike at the house. 

The Youngblood's lair was an abandoned storage house in the middle of the road, just like everything else. At the diner, they slept on old mattresses laid on the floor, all of them together to keep warm in the cold nights. But the house had actual rooms for each one, which made it easier for Kobra and Believer to have some privacy. 

The place seemed as abandoned as always, but Kobra knew better. He hid the bike well so nobody suspected any activity going on around the house, and walked up to the porch. Despite the early hour, when he knocked on the door, someone opened it. It was a guy with short reddish hair and a reddish beard, his arms covered in colorful tattoos. It was not the short guy he wanted to see. 

"Inked Serpent." he greeted, in a formal voice. 

The rest of Believer's group didn't mind him being in a relationship with Kobra, they didn't say anything about it. It was different from his own group, who would tease him constantly. The Youngbloods didn't express their opinions about it. They kept silent, and that made Kobra a little uncomfortable, like he was out of place, like he wasn't part of the family. 

He wondered if Believer felt that way too when he went to the diner. At first Party would barely talk to him, but with time he was more relaxed in his presence. But Kobra knew it was all because Party was really protective of him, and was kind of a dad with his little girl that was already dating. 

"Kobra Kid" Inked Serpent said with a sleepy voice. "A Killjoy in love with a Youngblood. Please do come in."

American Phoenix and Alpha Dog were up too, hunched over some papers lying on a table. When they saw him, they greeted him with a slight movement of the head. The whole group looked really tired, their hair messy and dark shadows under their eyes. 

"Believer's still sleeping" Phoenix informed, and Kobra went straight to the room, not peeking at the papers the Youngbloods were so focused on. He didn't want any problems. 

He opened the door and closed it behind him. Black Believer was lying on his back on the matress, his chest rising up with his breathing. Kobra carefully slipped into the bed along side him, and wrapped his arms around him. Believer shifted a little bit, and then slowly opened his eyes, blinking a couple times. 

"Mkey?" he asked with a groggy voice. "That you?"

"That me" Kobra answered, staring at the other's features as he came into consciousness. 

Pete smiled and placed a hand on Mikey's cheek, pulling him closer to seal their lips together in a sensitive kiss. He had missed him, a lot. It was becoming harder and more dangerous for them to move around, making their visits to each other rarer and rarer. But also more valuable. Believer slept some more, cuddled into Kobra's chest, but the latter couldn't really get some rest. Instead he went out and searched for a can of food to give Pete when he woke up. He only took one. He was hungry, yes, but he wasn't going to take the Youngblood's food for himself. 

Pete had told him to stop tip-toeing around his partners, that it was fine. But Mikey still didn't have much trust with them. He saw the black and dark blue raygun lying on the floor near the bed, the text "Believers Never Die" visible on its side. They ended up sharing the baked-beans, even though Kobra didn't like them at all. But no one could afford to be picky in their situation. 

"Hey, Believer... " Kobra started, actually feeling a little nervous. "I have something to tell you."

"What is it, Kid?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

"I... " he took a deep breath and finally said: "I love you, Pete."

There was a silence, the words fading into the air. Kobra started feeling the pain in his chest,  but it all disappeared when he saw Pete smiling and blusing a little. 

"I love you too, Mikeyway."

A weight was lifted off his shoulders, and they melted into an embrace, which turned into a kiss, which quickly turned into hands taking clothes off and letting them fall into the floor. 

They made sweet love, muffled moans and "i love you's" slipping out their lips. Mikey lied on his back with Pete on top of him, panting and feeling truly happy for the first time in a long time.

Pete cuddled close to his boyfriend, feeling that if he had Mikey by his side, everything was going to be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where is that guy?!" Phoenix exclaimed, getting frustrated. 

"He can't stay off the map for so long, not when Better Living is this active" Alpha Dog said, running a hand through his abundant brown hair.

"Surely Bachelor wants to be invisible, at least for a while" Inked Serpent said, matter-of-factly.

"What do you mean?" Phoenix asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Didn't you guys hear?" Inked Serpent answered, and his expression changed into one of sadness. "Odd Fever..."

"What about him?" Alpha questioned. 

"He's dead"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Just wanted to say that I'll try to post as often as I can, I know we all hate incomplete stories. 
> 
> Love and good vibes for you all <3


	3. A Bachelor with a Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicotined Bachelor hasn't been the same since his last run for supplies. The Youngbloods knew he was still alive, but they weren't so sure about Odd Fever.
> 
>  
> 
> **trigger warning for torture and blood**

Nicotined Bachelor was staring at himself in the mirror. The tight black pants, the golden jacket, the long hair pushed up. That was his usual self. But the person in the mirror was standing a little bit hunched, dark circles around his eyes. He proceeded to shed his clothes, and put on plain white ones. Clean. 

He was no longer Nicotined Bachelor, the Sinner. He was now a common civilian. 

It had been like ten years since he had been living that double life. You see, Bachelor was an extremely important part of the rebel community. Sure, they could go into the Zones and swipe them all looking for supplies, but scavaging around was often not enough. 

Bachelor lived close enough to Battery City so he could dress up as another brain-washed citizen and make a run for supplies. People in Battery City were never in need, they had plenty of food, water, a cold shower, a comfortable bed. The rebels had to be content with canned food that wouldn't go bad, gallons of warm water, and any other thing Bachelor could get them. 

Sometimes, people would pay him to get some other stuff that wasn't so vital out there in the desert. Things among sweets, condoms, lube and drugs. Drugs were the most requested (just above condoms and lube), guess people in the Zones liked to feel numb and stuff all of their feelings with drugs. They also really liked to fuck. And even though the first really could destroy a person, Bachelor was happy to help with the latter. 

Bachelor had built a reputation among the druglords inside Battery City. Most storage owners knew him as well, and if he had enough carbons, he could get the supplies peacefully. If not, he would have to steal them. 

But that day was different. We wasn't doing a usual run for supplies. He was going to get Odd Fever back. 

He was never alone. It was true that his partners had being killed one by one, but the one he never thought would be in danger, was Odd Fever. The guy was his shadow, always having his back. Bachelor noticed how Fever would stare at him, a look of delight in his face. Bachelor had passed that as just pure admiration, in the end Fever was just a kid, fresh into the desert. 

Bachelor had found him scavaging through the stuff HE was suppose to scavenge. Then he found out he wanted to get out of the city. So he agreed to help him out, and the kid stayed with him. They grew together and Fever was really helpful since he knew all the streets and shortcuts in Battery City. 

They both knew going into the city was really dangerous, but as a team they were flawless. They had never been caught. Until now. A group of draculoids had chimed in, and there were so many of them... 

The memories made him clench his fists, remembering the impotence he had felt at that moment. Him and Fever knew it was impossible to get out, so the reckless Fever had thrown himself at the enemies and yelled:

"Run Bach. Run!" as the dracs clawed at his skin with blades. 

There was so much blood... But he made it out with just a few scratches. When Bachelor came back without Fever, people started saying he had died. But Bachelor didn't believe it. He knew Fever has still alive. And he was going to find him. He was going to bring him home. 

He walked as casually as he could for someone that had just used a tunnel to get in, and roamed through the streets a little bit before going to the storage house where Fever was captured. He planned to go there and find some clues to exactly where they had taken his partner. He knew it was a long shot, but he was getting desperate. 

The storage was dead silent. Walking across the floor splattered with dried blood, the only thing he found was a piece of Fever's bright clothing, that had probably been ripped in the struggle.

He held the cloth close to his chest, as if with it he was closer to Fever. Bachelor would deny it everytime someone asked, but the truth was that he had deeper feelings for Fever than just partnership. He had come to terms with what he felt not so long ago, and it was killing him, the fact that he didn't tell Fever, and now he was missing.

He tried not to think about his small body curled into a corner or tied to a chair, drenched in blood with sweat damping his beautiful hair. Him pleading for mercy was not something he wanted in his mind. 

He continued looking, in every dark alley he knew, in every secret hideout. Nothing. Not even a clue. It was getting darker by the minute but Bachelor was stubborn and determined, he risked his life, being out there at night past curfew. 

In the end he was so tired and sad, he decided to stop. Fever had sacrificed himself so he could live. He wasn't going to let that go to waste. The only part of him he had left was the gift he had given him, a second chance to keep on helping the rebels, to keep on fighting. 

He took the supplies he could and went back into the desert, being quiet and careful as he always was when he got in and out of Battery City. He used an underground tunnel, that was moist all the time but helped him travel without being seen. He walked slowly towards his car, which was painted blue with strikes of red. He leaned back into the driver's seat and sighed, fighting hard to keep the tears from spilling. 

Bachelor had lost a lot of people he cared about through the years. You might think that being surrounded by death would make you immune to it, that the pain of grief would be easier to handle, that Bachelor was used to it. He wasn't. It didn't make him stronger, it sucked the hope out of him bit by bit, leaving him painfully empty. Feeling cursed to always lose whoever was by his side. 

He swallowed his tears and took a deep breath. He still had to deliver the supplies, he knew that it was vital for some people. He knew there were people who desperately needed medical supplies. So he drove back to a little secret underground market, where the rebels would come to pick their part. 

The market was placed in a series of old tunnels, and you could find literally everything. If you had enough carbons of course. The basic supplies were free for all, but the valuable items had a price. Things like weapons, designed clothing and even cars and motorcycles could have a very high price. And of course, drugs. 

Nothing was illegal in the Zones after all. 

After a while of distributing cans and bottles, some familiar faces came into view. The Youngbloods, of course. 

He and the Youngbloods had kind of a history together. The four helped him into the world of the rebels, when he was just a kid, reckless and naïve. Kind of how Fever was...

He owned a lot to them, they were the ones who trained him, taught him how to fight, how to drive, how to survive. They had picked him up like a stray dog when he had attempted to get out of Battery City on his own. If it weren't for them, Bachelor would have bled out in the desert.

"There you are!" American Phoenix said, pointing at him with an accusatory finger.

"You were off the map for quite some time." Black Believer murmured, looking at him seriously.

"You can't just disappear like that, not with Better Living this present." Alpha Dog exclaimed, and Bachelor felt like he was being scolded. 

"We're sorry about... " Inked Serpent started, but Bachelor cut him off. 

"Yeah me too." he said in a bitter voice. 

"He was a good kid." Believer offered, trying to be supporting. 

"Yeah, you taught him well, just like we taught you." Alpha Dog said, his hands on his back. 

"I couldn't save him." Bachelor whispered to himself, and when the four looked confused and concerned, he shouted "I couldn't save him!!", banged his hands on the table, making a few people jump and stare, and he ran out as fast a his feet would let him. 

"Let him go." he heard Believer say. "Give him time."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bachelor let himself fall into the mattress and groaned in pain when he came into contact with the hard surface. He took the filthy blanket and covered himself, trying to mantain body heat in the cold desert night. He was shivering violently, he felt so alone... 

At first, Fever was not used to the cold, since he had lived all his life in Battery City, in a warm room. The clattering of his teeth made it impossible to sleep, and the shivers that went through his small body were almost painful to watch.  

So, Bachelor told him to sleep with him. In the Zones it was not weird to sleep together. In those extreme situations, personal space became nothing, you'd develop a bond with whoever you were living with, so touching each other and sleeping together could be a non-romantic gesture. But of course, little Fever didn't know that. 

He did it anyway. He had crawled into Bachelor's sleeping space and had curled into a little ball. At first he was really stiff and wouldn't stop blushing, but as the sleep and exhaustion washed over him and he realized how warm it was to sleep with another person, he forgot his shame and curled up against Bachelor, pressing his body against his. 

Bachelor had wrapped his arms around him and squeezed, keeping him warm. He swore he even heard Fever moaning at how nice the heat they had below the sheets was. That was not much, but it was enough for him. They slept together everynight after that. 

And now Bachelor felt there was something missing, he was cold and lonely, trying desperately to go into the dreaming realm so he didn't have to think about it. But he couldn't. In the silence of the night, with only the cold breeze, hot tears began running down Bachelor's face, as sobs began hitching his breathing. 

"Ryan..." he cried, the pain in his chest suffocating him, taking his breath away. He didn't like been alone. 

He may have used some pills to knock himself out. Pills he said he would never take. But he was so tired of waking up screaming, of the bitter taste his name had when it rolled off his tongue. Nicotined Bachelor wanted to feel nothing at all. 

 

The next morning, the sun was high and strong, waking everyone up. Even the ones with a drug-induced slumber. Bachelor rose from his empty mattress and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. He had a terrible headache. His eyes were puffy and probably red, the tear trails still visible in his slightly filth-filled face. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. It was really early, who would be at his door? He had no one left. At first he ignored it, too drowned in his pain to even care to answer. It was going to be an impossible year. He wasn't sure he was gonna make it. 

The knocking became louder and more desperate, so eager Bachelor just had to go see who it was. If he was lucky, it wasn't some junkie who was looking for a dose and had found the little hidden room Bachelor spent the nights in. But it was not who he thought it was. 

When he opened the door, he was frozen in place and couldn't move for a while. His heart rate literally slowed down and he could feel the blood palpitating under his skin. The small frame, the silky hair, those eyes...

"Brendon..." he said, in a broken voice. 

"Ryan." he whispered, before they both melted into a bone-crushing hug that could have lasted hours. Bachelor wasn't sure. 

Ryan grunted, his wounds throbbing, but he didn't back away. How could he? They were finally together once again. Brendon took his chin and placed a heated kiss on Ryan's lips. A kiss that meant everything he felt, how lonely, guilty and miserable he had been without him. 

Ryan was so surprised he gasped, which allowed Brendon to slip his tongue into his mouth. He then forgot about everything. About exactly how he had gotten his wounds, the stress and fear of being captured, the endless walk through the desert, the thought of Brendon believing he was dead... It all went away, replaced by a constant and absolute feeling:

Brendon was kissing him. He liked him? He was worried. He cared.

"Oh, Ryan..." he whispered while running a hand through Fever's hair, their foreheads pressed together. "I thought you were dead..." 

"Me too." he answered in a small voice. He felt like his throat was itchy, full of dust and shattered. He was starving, almost dying out of thirst and bleeding from different spots. He barely had the force to stand. Brendon caught that up quickly and gave him a bottle of water, which he downed in seconds, feeling renewed, even if the water was old and warm. He went through three cans of beans (it was always beans), rolling his eyes at the almost orgasmic experience of food. 

He lied down on the mattress as Brendon cared for his wounds, cleaning the blood off with a damp cloth. Now, he could get a good look at him, now that he was sure Fever was actually there. Ryan's brown hair was looking dusty and sticking to the sides of his head, some of it caked with blood. His clothes were dirtier than average rebel-living-in-the-desert, and it was torn in some parts, exposing skin with yellow and purple bruises, darkened by the sun. His lips were completely chapped and bleeding a little. Brendon had felt the metalic taste of blood when he had kissed him. There were parts where his skin was fried, and it turned black in one big spot. His jacket was gone, so was that bandanna he loved so much. 

His arms were littered with bleeding cuts that were looking pretty bad, the skin around them starting to turn dark. In his eyes you could see he was in pain, but from his mouth, not a single whine escaped. Brendon cleaned the wounds and treated them as much as he could, and even after being done, there was still a metalic smell... 

He carefully made Ryan sit, and then he saw that the back of his shirt was drenched in old-looking blood. He froze for a second, then proceeded to take the clothe off. It had stuck to Ryan's skin, making him hiss when it was taken off. Brendon couldn't help letting out a gasp of terror. 

Ryan's back was completely and utterly destroyed. Long, red, angry slashes went across his skin in every direction, making a grotesque criss-crossed path all the way down to his lower back. It looked so incredibly painful Brendon felt dizzy just looking at it. 

"It's bad, I know" Ryan murmured, while Brendon thought of what to do. He could bandage him up, but the wounds had being exposed to the sun, the dust and the heavy air of the desert so much they could get infected if not treated properly... 

"Do it." Ryan said, not looking at him but knewing what he had in mind. "I can take it. Do it."

Brendon let out a shaky breath as he reached for the bottle of alcohol. He had to, he knew he had to. But that didn't make it any easier. He hated to see Ryan sitting there, shaking in anticipation. So he decided to get it over with.

He poured the clear liquid on his wounds as fast he could, making sure it was done right so he didn't have to do it again. Ryan closed his eyes tightly and tried to keep quiet, but ended up screaming in pain at the top of his lungs, as the alcohol made a horrible hissing sound. For Ryan it felt like he was literally on fire, like someone was digging a hot knife below his skin. 

It broke Brendon's heart. Ryan was so damn tired he almost passed out as Brendon covered him with bandages. He finally let himself be carried into the darkness, and he fell asleep. 

Bachelor sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The weight of what had happened to Ryan was pressing at his chest. They had tortured him. Probably for information, and they could be very, very cruel when it came to rebels. He carefully slipped into the mattress with him, and closed his eyes. 

Ryan's sleep was full of nightmares, repeating in a loop. Him waking up tied to a chair, beaten up, dizzy and confused. Scared. Then a man with a hard face, greyish skin and a bald head walking in and asking a question. A question Ryan knew he couldn't answer, knew that if he gave that information to the man, there would be blood and it would be on his hands. So he kept quiet. 

He saw pliers, connected to a car battery. And he knew what was coming. It hitched his breathing, but he was still not going to talk. The metal touched his skin and sent a wave of electricity through him. He felt like his skin was sizzling and that his head was about to explode, and it just... Wouldn't stop. And right before he was sure going to pass out, it stopped, leaving him panting and light-headed, his wrist and ankles throbbing, a result of him struggling against his bonds.

The man asked the question again. 

"Where are the others?"

He didn't answer. So the pliers came into contact once, twice. Three, four, five times. Each time longer, with higher voltage.

He was going to die. He knew it. His heart could not take another shock without stopping. In that moment he thought about Bachelor - about Brendon, and was glad that at least he had made it out. 

"Where are the others?" 

Flames. Flames caressed his skin as the question was repeated over and over again. He didn't answer. The man forced his hands into a bucket full of bleach. He still didn't answer. In the end, he was untied, but he was too exhausted to make a run for it. He struggled, yes, but that didn't stop his kidnapper from tying him to a pole, his wrists over his head, his burned hands twitching. 

He couldn't see what was going on behind his back, but he had an idea. 

"Tell me where are the others." the man said one more time. 

"Screw you" Ryan said, spitting the words with venom. 

He heard the sound of a whip cutting through the air, and even thought he tensed up, the whip's target was the wooden chair he had been tied to. That small gesture was meant for him to see it, how the whip had a sharp metal tip and how it had made a cut in the wood. 

"Tell me where are the others."

Ryan tried to breathe normally, but he started hyperventilating. That seemed to please the man. The whip sizzled throught the air, and slashed his skin over and over, the metal end getting stuck in his flesh and then ripping it off. He didn't know how long it had been. He just wanted to die. He didn't care anymore. He tried to keep quiet during the whole thing, not willing to give him that satisfaction. He ended up screaming, the sound echoing through the room. 

The most confusing part was how he had gotten away. It just didn't make any sense. He was left to his own pain at night, and he went from conscious to unconscious a couple times. He spent the entire night like that. But then, he felt his bonds being cut. And someone helping him up, as carefully as someone can be while holding up a person with wounds like his. 

"...Brendon?" he had said in confusion, but he didn't get an answer. 

He was half-dragged through the city, and left carefully on his feet at the end of Battery City, facing the desert. He still couldn't believe he was out. The sand felt hot below his feet and horribly on his skin. But he was out, and he was alive. So he started making his way back, back to the place he called home. Slowly, but surely. 

The last thing he heard was two guys arguing, probably the ones who helped him get out of that place. 

"Why did you drag me into this? You knew what happened in that room! How is this any different!?"

"He's just a kid! He doesn't deserve all that just because Better Living thinks he's problematic."

"He's a rebel"

"He is, but is it really that bad to be free? To do whatever you want with your life? To look like you want to? To do what you like to? No one should be punished or persecuted for being different! You and I both know that."

"Yes, but this is Korse who we are talking about!"

"I couldn't let him die, Josh."

"I know. But now we're in serious trouble, Tyler"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Im trying to make longer chapters and Im really enjoying it. Also this chapter was kind of late cause there's a storm and my internet couldn't handle it.
> 
> It's like one in the morning. But the chapter's posted!
> 
> Have a great day/night! <3


	4. Die with your Mask on If you've got to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not looking good for the rebels, neither for the two guys trying to escape fate and get out of Battery City before someone dangerous finds out what they did.

Party Poison hadn't really moved from the booth since Kobra left this morning. He had been there, hunched over and listening closely to the radio, trying to get as much information as he could, and praying for good news. 

It has never been easy out there in the Zones. People in Battery City often dreamt about getting out, the ones that were still a little bit themselves and hadn't been completely changed by the drugs BL/ind gave them. They thought that life in the Zones was wonderful, where you could dress how you wanted, have things of your own, dye your hair unnatural colors. And even though a part of that was true, no one would describe the life in the Zones as _'wonderful'._

Some people made it out of the City, and really that's how all of the rebels were born. By getting out. But not everybody was made to be a rebel. To fight for the cause. The ones that didn't make it, the ones that were passed-out or walking with no sense of direction were captured, stuffed with even more powerful drugs and turned into draculoids and exterminators. 

And it was hard for the early rebels, even for some of the old ones. To think that those dead-eyed creatures were once a person who just wanted to be free, but just wasn't lucky enough. 

But that's how they got their purpose. The cause is to fight Better Living, because people don't deserve to be controlled, and most importantly _it was not their fault_. People didn't deserve to be persecuted like a criminal for speaking their minds. 

And Better Living had been hunting them since the first generation of Rebels. But never in the history of the Zones had been this active. There's draculoids and exterminators patroling the roads, at day, at night.

People were being killed every day. And his brother was roaming around happily going to his boyfriend's house when he could be killed at any moment! 

"Hey, Party" he heard Jet say. "Are you okay?"

In his little internal rant he had banged his fist on the table and the little radio had fallen over. 

"Yeah, yeah" he said, trying to be as calm as posible. "Do you know if Kobra came back last night?"

"Nope, he sure didn't." Jet answered, and there was some sadness in his eyes when he saw Party sighing and running his hands through his red hair. 

"No need to worry, Poison" Fun Ghoul said with a groggy voice. He had just woken up and his long black hair was messy and sticking up in all directions. "Kobra's a grown-up"

"That doesn't matter if he keeps acting like a teenage boy." Party said, clenching his teeth. 

"He's in love, Party" Jet stated. "Love does that  to you"

"And how would you know?" Ghoul asked, while looking through the kitchen for something to munch on. 

"I've got a private life, Ghoul." Jet murmured, a little blush creeping onto his face. 

"Wait a minute." Party said. This was definitely not happening. "Are you seeing someone?"

"Her name's Christa" Jet said in a little voice. Party instantly knew Jet Star - no, Ray Toro, was in love. The way he said her name... 

"Wait another minute!" Ghoul exclaimed, and looked at Jet with a confused expression. "You're straight?"

"Yes Ghoul, I like girls. Stop staring like I'm a rare specimen."

They were both about to start rambling again when Party shushed them, hearing the static clear up with a familiar voice he was very eager to hear. 

"Look alive, sunshine." Dr. Death Defying spoke into the microphone. "Specially now. Things had gotten crazy out here, huh? But that's okay. We are like a Phoenix, no matter how many times we die, we always rise back into the fight."

That was weird. It was definitely a code for American Phoenix, but exactly what? 

"Good news, come on D."Party whispered to himself. "Give me good news."

"We've been informed of a pretty big exterminator unit, surfing our roads. And we can't show BL/ind that it's affecting us. Can't let those exterminators ghost anymore of us. So stay home, stay hidden. And for anyone that's out there..." D's voice trembled. The three Killjoys looked at each other with fear. That couldn't mean something good.

"They're too many. Don't fight. Flight. Get out. **NOW**."

The transmision was over and the static filled the room again. There was a tense silence. Dr. D had called a freaking lockdown. That's how bad it was. Party felt his limbs go weak, his head started spinning and it became hard to breathe. He could only think of one thing. 

"Mikey." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kobra stared at the ceiling, caressing Believer's bare back. He had gone out to get supplies in the market, leaving Kobra all alone in the house. He didn't see the use in putting his clothes on, so he just walked around like that. When Believer came back, he shed his own clothes, letting them fall on the floor. He crawled into bed with him and they stayed there, in a comfortable silence. 

Kobra would kiss the top of his head, and Believer would instantly smile. 

"You've been in bed all day, Mikeyway." he said, looking at him through his lashes. "Some might say you're lazy."

"I'm not lazy, I just like to be naked in my boyfriend's house." he replied, winking at him. 

"Who would have thought that one of the Fabulous Four enjoys being as he came into the world."

"It's my biggest secret. It shall not be unraveled."

"I don't have to. There's already rumors. 'Hey, I heard Kobra Kid sleeps naked'."

"Ew Pete, I sleep with three other people!" he said, laughing a little. 

"And I'm insanely jealous of them." he said, playing with one of Mikey's strands of blond hair. "Hey, I got you something from the market."

"Is it drugs?"

Pete looked extremely offended, gasping at him. "Who do you think I am, Kid?"

He passed him a bottle of water and opened his hand in front of him, showing him a little white pill. Mikey looked at him with his eyebrows raised and Pete gave him the 'it's not drugs' look. 

"Be honest with me, how long has it been since you slept more than 3 hours?"

Mikey looked down and his mouth twitched. When he looked up Pete was staring at him, waiting for an answer. 

"A month." he whispered, feeling ashamed when he heard Pete gasping. 

"A month!" he exclaimed, rubbing his face with the back of his hand. "You could pass out at any moment! And sleep-depravation is making you crankier than you actually are."

"It's really not a big deal." he said, trying to get Pete to drop it. But he just wouldn't. 

"I got really worried, Mikes" he said in a low voice, and then looked at the little med sitting in his palm. "So I got you a sleeping pill."

"A what?! Pete! Those things cost like a million carbons!"

"You need it." he said, seriously.

Mikey sighed, and considered the situation for a second. A sleeping pill was a luxury he had never been able to have. And now Pete was offering him one, when he could take it for himself. He thought it would be useless to try to decline it. So he took it. 

"There you go." Pete said, looking satisfied with himself. "Now lie down, I'll wake you up later so you can go home and your brother doesn't kick down the door and kill me."

Woah. Those things worked really fast. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around Pete's wrist, pulling him slightly. 

"Stay with me..." he said, already feeling his eyelids grow heavy. Pete smiled sweetly and rolling his eyes, he slipped into bed again. 

"Of course I'll stay with you."

Mikey smiled, content with being in Pete's arms. He let the effect of the sleeping pill wash over him, and slowly drifted away. 

 

When Mikey woke up, the sun was going through the window and hitting his face. He felt... Really good. Rested. He blinked a couple times and shielded his eyes with his hand. Why was the sun so strong?

He stepped out of bed and looked through the filthy glass, seeing the sun very high in the sky. Realization came to him and he started putting his clothes on in a hurry. It was past mid-day! His brother was going to kill him, for sure. 

He checked for his ray gun and grabbed his helmet off the floor. He opened the door only to see a very surprised Pete, casually leaning against a table. 

"You said you'd wake me up!" he exclaimed. 

"I was just letting you rest." Pete answered calmly. 

"I need to get to the diner, now." he said, rushing towards his motorcycle, Pete following him closely. 

"Well, I'll see you soon I hope" Mikey said, caressing his lover's cheek. It was always hard for him, because Pete looked like a kicked puppy everytime he left. Pete wrapped his arms aroung him and held him close for a couple moments. 

"Be careful." he warned him, truly concerned. 

"I will." he answered and leaned over to give him a long, love-filled goodbye kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too, Mikeyway." he said, and watched as his boyfriend placed his helmet on his head, downed the visor and drove away, leaving only a trail of dust behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Come on, Kobra." Party whispered, his fist clenching the little radio. "Answer, dammit!"

"Party, you know the signal out there is pretty bad." Jet tried to soothe him. "And I made them from scratch, they may not work at all."

No. Party knew the long distance walkie-talkies Jet had made worked. If not he wouldn't have made it obligatory for everyone to always carry theirs when going out. 

He had been trying to contact his brother for the past half-hour, and still no response from Kobra. 

"Maybe he heard the report and decided to stay at the Youngblood's." Jet argued. 

"Then why isn't he picking up!?"

"Maybe he's having sexy times with Believer, and just turned the thing off." Ghoul suggested, but it didn't really calm him. 

Suddenly, the static changed into the loud noise of a motorcycle and the raspy voice of Kobra saying "what? Poison?"

"Kobra!" Party chimed, relief washing over him only to be replaced with panic a second later. "Kobra the Zones are crawling with exterminators, you need to get the hell out. Do you hear me? Get the hell out!"

~~~~~~~~~~~

Kobra only understood like half of the things Party was saying, the static was making it hard to make up the words. It was probably just him rambling about how irresponsible he was. So he shoved the radio back in its holster and continued driving. 

Suddenly, he heard the screeching of tires behind him, and when he glanced back, he saw a full SCARECROW unit, the white vans filled with draculoids and exterminators. He stayed there staring for a while until his reflexes kicked in and he turned his sight to the road, pumping gas into the bike, driving as fast as he could.

He saw a drac pulling his body out the window and pointing at him with a raygun through the mirror, all before it exploted in little pieces, startling him. He had started breathing heavily, his thoughts racing a 100 miles per hour. A second later he realized he was, in fact, driving directly towards the diner. 

There were too many for the four of them to win such a fight, and the weight of this took his breath away. In a matter of seconds, he took a desition. He abruptly took the first curve he saw and speeded up in a total different direction, away from the diner. 

He dodged the rays that were being fired at him, and tried to think of a way out of that. The adrenaline made his heart race, his hands clenched tight into the handles, his body close to the bike. Little beads of sweat appeared in his forehead, and Kobra could hear his breathing inside the helmet. His legs started shaking and that made it harder to keep the motorcycle steady. 

What would Poison do. He was the leader after all, always the man with the plan. He couldn't keep thinking as the sound of a rocket launcher filled his ears and the misile exploded right behind him, throwing him off balance and making him fly out of the bike. 

He landed painfully on his side, and rolled a couple times, ending face down in the hot sand. He coughed and groaned in pain as some little pieces of the bike had made their way throught his jacket and pierced his skin. He felt hot all over, and saw that his clothes were burned, as well as some patches of his skin. 

He reached for his raygun with a bloody hand, and struggled trying to get it out of the holster. At least two of his fingers were broken. He swallowed the pain and got the gun out, only to be kicked in the ribs and layed on his back. He tried to get his helmet off so he could _breathe_ , but his hands were shaky and not strong enough to even lift the visor. 

He was kicked again, and pain flared up his body. He definitely had some broken ribs as well. Kobra tried to get up but found out he was surrounded by dracs and even Korse himself, who looked at him with a gross smile. 

"You wandered too far from your lair, Killjoy." he spitted out those words with hatred and a sense of victory. "Now's time to send a message."

"Fuck you." he whimpered, and wondered if Korse heard him. 

You know that feeling when you just know you're going to die?

Like, some people say life flashes before your eyes? Well, it turned out to be true. Lying there in the ground completely surrounded and defeated, Mikey saw himself as a kid, a child playing with Gerard in the backyard. 

He saw himself going to school, his big brother smiling as he walked with him, holding his hand so he wouldn't get lost. Gerard distracting him so he wouldn't be scared of the screams and fighting going on downstairs. Gerard hugging him when their mom was killed. Gerard saying they needed to go, that he couldn't take it anymore. Frank and Ray joining them in the newly painted car. Buying colorful clothes. Getting new names. Gerard helping him dye his hair. 

Memories of them laughing at the diner, eating those gross baked beans and cans of dog food, sitting around a campfire, sleeping all pressed up against each other. Fighting side by side. 

Believer - smirking at him, checking him out, flirting with him and undressing him with his eyes. Believer smiling at him, his eyes shining, leaning against him, touching his arms, running his hands through his hair, kissing his lips, his neck, caressing his skin. Hugging him tightly. Pete saying he loved him. 

You know that feeling when you just _know_ you're going to die? 

Mikey Way, the Killjoy known as Kobra Kid does. 

And he doesn't like it at all. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Josh. Josh wake up. Josh."

He stirred in his sleep and groaned. Why must Tyler always wake him like that? Shoving him around. But this time it was rough, eager and kind of desperate. He opened his eyes only to see his best friend pulling him out of bed. Even though the room was dark, Josh could see Tyler's head adorned with a bright red beanie, his hands and neck painted black. 

"Have you lost your mind?! Someone might see you!!" he whispered-yelled. His friend just stared blankly at him. What Josh had not noticed, was that Tyler's eyes were a deep, bloody red. 

That was not Tyler. 

He started twitching, slowly getting closer to Josh. He stepped back, trying to keep his chill and more importantly, to bring his friend back. 

"Tyler." he called him. "Don't listen to him, Ty. Listen to me. Listen to my voice. Take control Tyler, he doesn't control you, you control him. You can do this. Listen to me... Please..."

He hated whenever that happened. He looked at Tyler - no, at Blurryface with pleading eyes, praying his heart out so he would just go away.  But that just didn't happen, it was never like that. The screams of that kid still rang in his ears, and he knew Tyler and him needed to get out of the City. So he swallowed his fear and stepped forward. 

"I'm sorry, Tyler." he whispered, before punching him hard on the face. Blurryface fell over and Josh threw himself at him, pinning him down and shaking him violently. 

"GO AWAY!" he yelled, his teeth clenched. "LEAVE HIM ALONE! GO AWAY YOU BASTARD!"

He shook and twitched once last time, and then he blinked a couple times, breathing heavily. His eyes were back to the natural brown. Josh sighed in relief and held his friend close to his chest. 

"I'm sorry." Tyler whispered. 

"It's okay." Josh soothed him, running his hand up and down his back. "Come on, we need to go."

"Go?" Tyler asked. "Where would we go?"

"Anywhere far from here." he said, and saw Tyler's backpack. "I think that's why you came here."

"Um, that." Tyler said, rubbing the back of his neck. "It was just some crazy idea I had..."

"It's not crazy at all". Josh said, while packing some stuff in a backpack of his own. "It's only a matter of time before Korse finds out what we did. And he's gonna be pissed. So we better not be here."

"But- but Josh..." Tyler stuttered. "It's the freaking _desert_ , what would we do? Where would we go? How...?"

"Tyler." Josh said, looking at his friend straight in the eyes. "I know it's scary. But we'll figure it out, we have each other. And that's all that matters."

That seemed to calm him down, so they both stepped out of the house and walked through the empty streets, ears open to any sound. 

"Can you tell me what's with the black paint?" Josh whispered, genuinely curious. 

"I don't know." he answered, his eyes wandering around. "I'm sure it means something. But... Blurry did it."

Blurry. The other guy. Josh hated him so much.  He noticed Tyler was staring at his feet so he tried to lighten the mood as much as he could in that situation. 

"You know, I've always wanted to dye my hair." he commented, and Tyler looked at him with a smile. 

"Really, what color?"

"Don't laugh, okay?" he said, and Tyler nodded. "Pink."

His friend's smile grew wider, and Josh wrapped and arm around his shoulders. 

"I think it would look great on you." he said, and in no time they were at the edge of Battery City,  the desert extending before them. He heard Tyler taking a shaky breath, and when he looked around, his heart stopped. 

A patrol of draculoids saw them and pointed at them. Tyler saw them too and tried to drag Josh with him, away from danger, but Josh was frozen in place, staring at the dracs as they came closer and closer. 

Tyler pushed him out of the way when the fist of the drac leader came at them, and he fell to the floor. Rayguns weren't allowed in the city, so they had an opportunity to run. But Tyler didn't. He stood tall in between the dracs and Josh, who was breathing heavily and still on the ground. 

The dracs stared with their dead-eyes at the red beanie and the black paint on Tyler's hands and neck. And they swinged their fist at him with full force. 

"Tyler!" Josh screamed, getting up and trying to fight off the dracs that were attacking his friend. He saw one of them take out a pocket knife, and with horror we saw how the blade pierced Tyler's side and how the blood started pourring out of the wound. Tyler fell to the floor, and Josh inmediately pushed the dracs off and started pounding at them. 

"No one hurts Tyler." he muttered as the dracs dropped to the floor, unconscious. Josh stared at his hands and Tyler stared at him, glad that fit of anger had gotten them out of trouble. Josh's plan was to jump the fence and run down the road, but now Tyler was bleeding on the floor and couldn't climb over the fence, even if he was so good at climbing. 

Tyler got up slowly, a hand pressed over his wound and looking beaten up. "We need to get out before more of them find us." he said, trying to control his breathing. 

"I have another idea." Josh said, and walked towards the tunnel he had found earlier. "This will get us out, then we'll figure out what to do, come on."

They crawled through the tunnel, little drops of dirty water hanging from the ceiling and moss growing out in between the cracks of the floor. It was almost suffocating to be there. They crawled for a long while, until the tunnel surfaced again, in the middle of nowhere. 

But the fading lights of Battery City were far away. The night sky was full of stars, shining down on them. "Tyler, look." Josh said, his head raised. "It's beautiful."

It was beautiful. But for Tyler the stars were blurry and his head was pounding. "We need to... Go somewhere." he said, panting a little. 

"We should try to find a place to spend the night."

So they started walking, following the road and the tire marks. Tyler was dragging his feet through the sand, trying his best to keep up with Josh, who was looking around for some sign of activity. Nothing so far. They were completely alone, with the wind moving the sand around them. Tyler felt like they had been walking for hours, Battery City no longer in sight and the cold starting to come down on them. 

Josh was tired, but he didn't lose hope of finding something. Or someone. Suddenly, he heard a tud and when he turned around, he saw that Tyler had fallen. He rushed towards him and knelt by his side, seeing Tyler's painful expression. The spot he was pressing was drenched in blood, and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. 

Josh wrapped his arm around his waist and pressed the wound, and then swung Tyler's arm over his shoulders. He stood up and helped Tyler continue walking, as his friend's head rested on his chest. 

"I can't, Josh." he breathed out, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "I'm sorry... I can't..."

"Yes you can." Josh said, dragging him forward. "Yes you can Tyler, come on, stay with me."

"Go..." he whispered. "On without me, Josh... Go..."

"Are you out of you mind? I'm not leaving you here! You'll die!" 

"Doesn't matter..." he said, growing weaker and weaker. "You can go... Do it, leave."

"I said no." Josh answered firmly. "I'm not leaving you. If I have to carry you, I will. But I'm not leaving without you."

Tyler didn't say anything for a while, and focused on placing one foot in front of the other. "We'll both die if we stay out here."

"I don't care." was all Josh said, before he saw some figures ahead, and heard them argue. 

"Believer, come back." one was saying. "You can't stay out here so late."

"Watch me." the other answered with a broken voice. He seemed to be crying. There were other two guys following them, and one of them saw them and ran towards them. 

"Oh my God." the man said, his curly brown hair falling a little into his eyes. "Are you guys okay?"

"He's hurt." Josh said, motioning at Tyler who was barely keeping awake. "Please..."

"Let me." a guy covered in tattoos said, and took Tyler into his arms bridal style. Josh stood up panting and followed them closely, as they rushed into a little storage house. They placed Tyler on a mattress and a short, blond guy approuched him with a wash cloth. 

"It's not that bad, actually." he said, cleaning the wound. "We can stitch him up and he'll be fine. He just needs to rest."

"How long have you two been out there?" the guy with the tattoos asked. 

"We... Just got out of the Battery City. We've been walking for a couple of hours, I think. A bunch of draculoids caught up with us and... That's how he got hurt."

"He kicked their ass on his own..." Tyler muttered, a little smile on his face. "Isn't he amazing?"

"That's true?" the guy with the curly brown hair asked. 

"I... Yes, it's true." he admitted, blushing a little. Both guys smiled at him, and said:

"You'll make good rebels. What's your name?"

"Josh. Josh Dun." he answered. "And that's my best friend Tyler."

"You guys need a new name. A second identity, so BL/ind can't find you that easily. You also need a raygun, and training..."

"I'm Spooky Jim." Josh said. "And... I'm really grateful. Thank you so much, we would have died if it weren't for you guys."

"That's what he do, Jim" the blond guy said. "We help each other. What about you, Tyler? Got something in mind?"

"My name's Blurryface." he said, but his eyes were still brown. A second later he was out cold. The guys (which called themselves Youngbloods) helped him move Tyler into a room and laid him down in the mattress. 

Josh lied down besides him and run a hand through his short hair, sighing. He looked at Tyler's face, how peaceful it looked when he was asleep. He took his black hand and intertwined their fingers, whispering into his ear:

"We made it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I have to go." Party said, standing up and walking towards the door, only to be stopped by Jet, who had a serious look on his face. 

"No. I'll go." he said, his helmet already in hand. "You stay here..."

"But Ray..." he started saying, but Jet cut him off. 

"Gerard. You are the leader of the Killjoys. The leader of the whole fucking revolution. The world needs you. It needs the legendary Party Poison. We can't risk it. That's why you're going to follow Dr D's orders, and I'm going out there to get your brother back safely. I promise."

Party was silent for a moment, and then Ghoul came along and wrapped his short arms around the both of them. The three Killjoys stayed there, squeezing each other in a silent goodbye. Party went back to the radio and Ghoul walked with Jet to the door. 

"Stay." Jet told him. "He needs you, Ghoul."

"I... I will." Ghoul said, sadness present in his voice. 

"If I don't come back..." Jet started saying, and tried to keep his voice steady. "I want you to take care of Party. It's going to hurt like hell, but I need you to be strong for him. For the both of you. Don't let him do anything stupid."

Ghoul nodded and gave Jet one last hug, before watching him disappear into the road. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was rising in between the dunes, filling the diner with an orange light. Ghoul was resting his head on Party's shoulder, both of them sitting on a booth, staring blankly at the radio. They didn't sleep at all. Suddenly, the static cleared up with Dr D's voice, which said:

"Bad news from the zones, tumbleweeds.  
It looks like Jet-Star and the Kobra Kid had a clap with an Exterminator  
That went all Costa Rica,  
And uh,  
Got themselves ghosted.  
Dusted out on Route Guano.  
So it's time to hit the red line  
And up-thrust the volume out there.  
Keep your boots tight,  
Keep your gun close,  
And die with your mask on if you've got to.  
Here  
Is the traffic..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished this!  
> It's been a rough week but here's this extra long chapter :)


	5. A Killjoy has Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the report is been transmitted, the whole rebel world shakes. Specially for the remaining killjoys. Also, secrets are coming into light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little note: Venus is the roman goddess of love, beauty, sex, fertility, prosperity, victory, and desire. You'll get that later ;)

After the message the static came back to fill the room. Party had stopped breathing and was staring directly at the small radio. His vision went in and out of focus, and he felt Ghoul's hand tighten around his arm. 

He stood up suddenly, making Ghoul jump and walked towards the door, getting his yellow mask on his way.

"They're not dead." he said outloud, and Ghoul was beside him in a second. He took his arm and pulled him back. 

"Party..." he said in a small voice, pulling him closer. 

"I said THEY ARE NOT DEAD, GHOUL." he shouted at him, and Ghoul let his hand drop to his side. Ray's words came back to him, telling him he needed to be strong for them. Hearing Party so mad at him hurted him, but he just needed to understand that... 

He didn't want to believe it himself. Specially with Party getting ready to leave. He did too, maybe because he had some hope? Hope they would find them save and sound? Jet had taken the other motorcycle so Party got into the trans AM and turned the key so the engine roared to life. Ghoul took his raygun and plopped into the passanger seat, getting an odd look from Poison. 

"What are you doing?" he asked, red strikes falling over his eyes. 

"Isn't it obvious? Im coming with you." he answered, not looking at him. 

"It's dangerous." he said, as if that would change Ghoul's mind. 

"I know. Route Guano, just drive."

They didn't say a thing during the whole trip, Party being focused on the road and Ghoul on looking out the window feeling miserable. He knew the truth, but Party was in such a state of denial that Ghoul knew he wouldn't listen to him. Party was bitting his lip and had a dead grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. The sun was shining down strong, making it difficult to see anything.

But Party was sure when he saw Kobra's motorcycle lying on the road. He slammed his foot on the break and cringed at the sound the tires made. He opened the door and ran towards the bike, and saw how utterly destroyed it was. The metal was burned and it had pieces missing. And then he saw him. 

Lying on his back, covered in dust, was his brother. He ran towards him and fell to his knees. 

"No..." he whispered, his voice breaking a little. 

Party removed his yellow helmet with shaky hands, letting it fall into ground. Mikey had burns all over and pieces of metal were jabbed into his skin, the wounds caked with blood. His beautiful face was white as a sheet, his lips chapped and tinted with blood. But the worst part of all was that his throat had been slit, a clean cut that had left him there to drown on his own blood, staining his shirt and the ground below him. Party cradled his brother and brushed the hair out of his face, contemplating him. 

"MIKEY!" he shouted into the sky, a scream of pure agony ripped Party's throat until his voice broke into a sob, and the tears starting flowing down his cheeks, like they were endless. He just couldn't stop... The pain in his chest was suffocating him, like a flame crawling through his insides. 

"Mikey... My brother, my baby brother... Mikey, Mikey..." he cried, caressing his face with soft,  cautious fingers as if he would break like porcelain if he was touched too hard. 

His brain couldn't process what was happening correctly. Mikey was dead. His baby brother was dead. It just didn't fit, all he saw was blurry images mixed with memories, a painfully loud ringing in his ears, him being unable to move, unable to stop the flow of tears. 

His mouth felt dry and his limbs felt numb, the desert seemed even more silent than it already was. Party buried his face into his brother's neck, crying even harder when he felt his skin cold to the touch. He squeezed him hard, and brought him as close as he could be, rocking back and forth singing 'Mikey's lullaby'. 

A sweet melody he used to sing when Mikey was little, and couldn't sleep or after a nightmare. It would soothe him out of fear, lull him to sleep. So in that moment, with him cradled into his arms, he sang once again. And it would be the last time. 

His eyes felt raw and burning from all the crying, but the tears wouldn't stop falling down. His only family, was gone. Killed, viciously murdered and left to bleed out in the middle of the desert. Alone. He died alone. And Party was not there to save him. He had failed. He had promised to always protect him. He had broken the only vow he considered sacred and holy, broken, just like his heart and soul. 

He felt like the pieces of himself were lying with Mikey's dead body. Like his death had ripped his whole heart out of his chest, leaving only a dark hole full of pain. He felt stuck in time, like every creature had stopped breathing, like the earth had stopped moving, every grain of sand completely motionless. 

"I love you, Mikey" he said, still clunching him close. "I love you so much... I said I wouldn't let them hurt you, I'm sorry, forgive me... Forgive me..."

He looked at the sky and questioned if he should carry on. Continue being a Killjoy. He thought he was doing something good, but the only thing he had gotten was pain, and loss. He had dragged his brother into this life, eager to chase his crazy, unrealistic dream of being free, and it had only gotten Mikey killed. 

It was his fault. 

He was responsable for so many deaths that the weight of it all threatened to crush him every night. He wasn't going to make it, he knew it. 

"Party." Ghoul said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He barely felt it. "Can you hear me? Party!" he sounded like he was really far away, his voice distortioned. "We need to go." his voice sounded so serene. How could he be so calm, while Party was falling apart? 

"Ray?" he asked, looking up at Ghoul with pleading eyes. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, and he just shook his head. That left him breathless once again. 

"Come on." Ghoul said "I'll help you get him into the car."

"No." he didn't want _anyone_ to touch Mikey. "You drive. I can do it myself."

He took Mikey in his arms, bridal style, and tried not to start crying again, feeling how light - how _lifeless_ he was. He got in the backseat, with Mikey's head on his lap, and caressed his hair as he waited for Ghoul to come and drive them all home. 

Ghoul was standing in the middle of the accident, staring at the horizon, the strong wind made his long hair go wild, but he didn't even flinch. It was right there when Party realized, he wasn't the only one in pain. Ghoul didn't have any family left, all of them had died because they were allergic to Better Living's drugs. He only survived because his mother took the drugs for him, while he was just a baby. 

He had lived in the streets, and Party could remember the glow in his eyes when Ray had told him to come with them, to get out, to be free...

 

Ray, Mikey and Gerard were the only family Ghoul ever knew. They were his brothers. And he had lost two of them overnight, and the one he held most dear to his heart was slowly falling apart. He only clenched his fists and breathed shakily. "Be strong." he told himself. "Be strong for Gerard." 

He drove back in silence, stealing worried glances at Party, who had at least stopped crying. What Ghoul didn't know was that Party had quite literally ran out of tears. His body was used to adapt itself to the desert, he just ran out of tears to save water, so he wouldn't dehydrate that fast.

When they arrived home, Party placed his brother's body in a nearby table and just went to the storage room and locked the door. He would not answer, even if Ghoul pounded at the door. "Party!" he called him, getting frustrated. "Please, let me in."

Nothing. 

"I'm worried about you, please open the door."

"I'm fine." 

And that's how Ghoul knew, Party Poison was not fine. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The whole world had been shocked by the news. Sure, people died everyday, but this time it was a _Killjoy_. They were the most important rebel group out there, and half had been wiped in one day. That's how bad things were. 

Fever had been out doing God knows what, and when he came back he found Bachelor staring at the wall with his hands together. 

"What's wrong?" he asked. 

"Didn't you hear?" he answered, looking distressed. "The Killjoys?"

Fever tensed up and his eyes widened. His entire face went pale in seconds, and it was suddenly hard to breathe. 

"Are they dead?" he stuttered, and Bachelor looked at him strangely. 

"Not all of them." he whispered, and Fever looked like he had just seen a ghost and was about to run for the hills. "But now they're only two."

"They said they wouldn't kill them. They said they wouldn't do that as long as I..." he ran his hands through his hair and pulled gently at it, closing his eyes tightly. 

"Ryan?" Bachelor asked, fear and sudden hatred starting to bloom in his chest. "Please tell me you're talking nonsense, tell me you can't be possibly involved with this mess."

He opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it. He looked away and bit his lip for a moment. 

"No..." Bachelor whispered, and covered his mouth with his hands. 

"I can explain." he said, trying to be reasonable. 

"How can you possibly explain this Ryan?!" Bachelor exclaimed, flailing his arms. "How could you?! After what Better Living did to you?! RYAN!! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!"

"If you would just listen to me!" he cried. "Listen, you need to listen."

"How can I listen?! Two Killjoys are dead! You took their brothers away from them!" anger was burning in his chest and suddenly he felt the need to punch something. To punch Ryan. 

"I DIDN'T KILL THEM!" Ryan shouted, breathing heavily. "...and I didn't know they would either."

"What? - what are you talking about?" he asked,   calming down a little but still clenching his fists.  "Who are 'they'?"

"...Better Living." he said after a moment of silence. "Listen! They... They told me to tell them at what time would Kobra Kid be on the road. They knew he used to move around a lot."

"And you told them?! Ryan, for God's sake!! Better Living has done this before and even though they _tortured_ you, you didn't say a fucking word!" 

"This time was different..." he said in a really low voice. 

"How was this any different, Ryan!?"

"They threatened to kill you!" Ryan finally said, and as Bachelor kept quiet in shock, he continued. "You have to believe me, I wouldn't have said anything at all, if it was me the one in danger. They tortured me once, they can do it again and again, I don't care, I would never betray any of us. But I couldn't let them hurt you, Brendon. Because I love you."

Brendon didn't know what to say. His head was spinning with thoughts and the only thing he could see was Ryan's pleading eyes. 

"...So you let them die?" he whispered, his voice breaking a little. 

"They said they wouldn't kill them!" Ryan argued, but his voice wasn't so confident anymore. 

"And what did you think was gonna happen?!" he shook his head. "You shouldn't have said anything. You should have let me die."

"I couldn't, Brendon! Please listen to me, I did this because I love you!"

"Because you love me? Ryan, you're insane!"

"I had no other choice! Put yourself in my place! Unless..."

"Unless what?" he answered harshly. He was tired, confused as to what to think about the whole situation. 

"You don't love me the way I love you." Ryan said and he looked pretty convinced. "You would have let me die so your precious Killjoys could continue with the fucking revolution."

"That's not what I said! - hell, I haven't said anything! You're just making up all this scenarios in your head and none of them are true!" his voice rose so much Ryan flinched back. "You wanna know what I would have done? I would have found another way, I would protect you, or something - anything!"

"...I'm not capable of protecting you." he said, his voice as low as a whisper. "You are the strong and stealthy Nicotined Bachelor. Understand I'm not all that! I'm just your trusty sidekick. Nothing more!"

They both stayed in a tense silence, not looking at each other. Fever now felt ashamed, ashamed of being so useless. Ashamed Brendon was disappointed. 

"I do love you, Ryan." Brendon said, closing his eyes. "But what you did... I know, I understand, okay? But think about what would happen if someone found out. You'll be seen as a traitor to the cause, and they'll kill you. Party Poison himself will slit your throat and watch as you slowly die with no remorse in his eyes, and _nobody_ would dare to stop him."

Ryan tried to swallow the lump he had in his throat, picturing himself lying in the ground, drowning on his own blood, the only thing he could see was Party standing there, looking at him like he was just some animal. The rebel community had very strong tendencies to punish every traitor they caught with death. It was an eye for an eye sort of sense. 

"No one can know about this, do you hear me?" Brendon said, looking extremely serious. "As for us... I think I..."

"Need some time?" Ryan completed, and scoffed sarcastically. "Sure, Brendon. I'll just wait here for you. Whenever you're ready."

"Ryan..."

"I've had a crush on you for _years_!"

"I know."

"And still you think is fair to play with my feelings like this? I'm not some toy you can play with and then throw away! You either want me or not, Brendon, but I'm not in for these games."

"It's always black or white with you, isn't it?" he exclaimed, starting to get tired of Ryan's nonsense. "It's not the end of us."

"You make it seem like it is."

"Well I'm telling you is not!"

"You want time, Brendon? Fine. I'll give you time. But I swear I'm not running back to you like a damsel in distress. You decide you love me? Then come get me. Because I'm sick of being the one chasing you all the time." 

And with that, he went out the room, leaving Brendon alone with his mess of feelings, sitting in the bed with his head on his hands. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ghoul needed to blow some steam somehow. Party cried, and locked himself up to do God knows what. But Ghoul handled pain very differently. He took a shovel and walked a few steps away from the diner. And he started digging, driving the shovel hard into the ground. 

He continued with no interrumptions, his actions becoming more violent, repressed anger and pain taken out as the hole got deeper and deeper. He tried to drown his sorrows working his ass off, the pain of losing Mikey and Ray, the pain of seeing Gerard in pain and doing nothing about it. Except being there digging a morbid grave. 

At last, he was exhausted. He managed to get out of the hole and lied in the ground, panting heavily. He felt the beating of his heart throughout his whole body, the burn of his lungs pleading for air made him feel a little relieved. The sun had gone down and it was starting to get cold. 

Ghoul saw his hands, which felt awful and were full of blisters. He didn't care. He just lied there beside the huge amount of dirt he had made, the pile bigger than himself. His head was spinning and he was drenched in sweat, all that exhaustion making him forget for a while. Until he felt a hand placed in his shoulder, shaking him a little and after a while, helping him up. 

It was American Phoenix, who got him some water and stared at him with eyes full of compassion. He didn't have to say anything, Ghoul knew all of them were sorry. Alpha Dog and Inked Serpent gave him long hugs, which he didn't know he needed.

The only one who didn't move at all, was Black Believer. If Ghoul looked awful, Believer was completely and utterly devastated beyond repair. He looked like a statue, staring at his feet, and he was barely breathing. He had his arms wrapped tightly around himself, as if he was holding himself together. His face was pale and expressionless, his eyes empty. 

It was obvious to everyone that he had been crying, his eyes being all puffy and red. Just like Gerard's. Speaking of which, Party finally stepped out of the diner, and saw all the rebels that had gathered around it. He saw Believer among the other Youngbloods, and slowly walked up to him. He was holding something in his hands, and he handed it to Believer, who just accepted it without saying a word. 

It was Mikey's helmet. 

Believer just held it close to him, his dark hair falling on his face. Party was hiding behind his red hair too, but he brushed it aside when Believer said: "Thank you." His voice was hoarse and scretchy, as if he had been screaming his lungs out. 

"You should have it." Party said, very slowly. Ghoul saw the yellow bandanna Mikey used wrapped around Party's hand. "He loved you, in ways I couldn't understand. I'm deeply sorry, if I ever came between you and him."

"He loved you very deeply too." Believer whispered. "Mikey wasn't good expressing his feelings. But the most important thing to him was family. You."

He saw the pain in Believer's eyes, he even flinched at his own use of past tense. Party closed his eyes tightly, and with one step he closed the space between him and Believer, and wrapped his arms around the short man. 

Believer wrapped his arms around Mikey's brother, and squeezed him back. Two guys that weren't even that close outside the battlefield, were now hugging tightly, comforting each other. One crying over the death of a brother, the other crying over the death of a lover. 

When they pulled away, Believer held the yellow helmet close to his chest, since it was the last piece of his lover he had left. Party disappeared for a couple moments, and Ghoul was left to receive the condolences everyone present was giving him. Few people knew about Believer's relationship with Mikey, so he didn't get much attention. 

Party reappeared, holding Mikey in his arms, and everyone fell silent. It was a heartbreaking scene, the leader of the Killjoys carrying his brother's cold, lifeless body. Party let Believer get close to him, and he caressed Mikey's cheek, whispering things like "I love you, Mikeyway, I love you, so much..."

Believer placed a kiss on his forehead, and then stepped back, letting Party continue forward. And when he placed him down, he wished to lay by his side and let the others throw dirt over him, and then suffocate slowly... 

He would have, but Ghoul pulled him up. 

"A Killjoy has fallen." the crowd chanted, and then again. "A Killjoy has fallen." 

One for Mikey, one for Ray. Party thought it was horribly unfair that they didn't have Ray's body to bury, it was like he just disappeared...  
As the night went on, people started to retreat, and Party barely heard their goodbyes or felt their hugs. 

What he did feel was Ghoul's hand on his shoulder, slowly guiding him inside. He felt numb, and somehow weightless, his head felt really really light... His eyes went out of focus as Ghoul lied him down on the mattress. The ceiling was dusty and full of cobwebs, nothing really interesting but Party was staring at the little dust particles flying around, completely absent. 

Ghoul just laid by his side and slowly, very slowly, wrapped his arms around Gerard. He buried his face in Ghoul's chest and they both stayed there, in the mattress with their limbs tangled, tired and devastated. 

"It hurts, Frank." Gerard whispered. "It hurts so much."

"I know." Frank answered, his own voice shaky. "But we'll carry on."

"I don't think I can." Gerard confessed. "Not without Ray. Not without my brother."

"Yes you can, Gerard. You have to. You're Party Poison. You're the leader. You're _my_ leader."

"I don't know if I wanna keep fighting. Is it really worth it? Are we even getting anywhere?"

Frank really didn't want to start contemplating his existence nor his purpose. It was enought with the grief surrounding both of them. Out of anything, Frank was afraid of what Gerard _might_ do, so there was no way he was letting him out of his sight.

"You need to sleep." he said, simply, and squeezed him even closer. "Let's postpone the existencial crisis to tomorrow, 'kay?"

"Mmkay." Gerard murmured and closed his eyes, his eyelids growing heavy. He was exhausted, and if he was lucky, it would be a dreamless night. He was sound asleep, so he didn't feel Frank running his fingers through his hair, or kissing his forehead, a silent prayer for it to all be okay. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Youngbloods almost left without an explanation. Black Believer burst into tears in such a way both Josh and Tyler felt a pang of pity in their chest. He looked miserable, barely able to breathe. Apparently, they had to leave for some kind of funeral, as American Phoenix explained while Alpha Dog and Inked Serpent tried to get Believer off the ground. 

So the person that had died was very important to Believer. And so, Tyler and Josh stayed in the Youngblood's lair, with explicit orders of practicing their shooting skills. They had never fired a raygun before, but Josh ended up having really good aim.

They spent the day shooting cans and any other object they could find. After a while they both sat side by side, leaning on the wall infront of the little shooting course they had set. 

Tyler saw Josh staring at his blackened hands, which looked exactly the same as the day they had escaped. Pitch black, like ink. It had not faded at all. 

"It doesn't wash off." Tyler said, rubbing his hands together. "I've tried."

"Does it feel any different?" Josh asked, concerned about his friend he loved so much. 

"Actually... It does. My hands feel... Heavy, but there's something else, like I can do bad stuff with them. Hurt people. They feel like... Weapons, guns." Tyler explained. "My neck feels different though. It feels like there's some kind of pressure. It makes it a little hard to breathe, well, I'm sure breathing is easier than this. It sometimes feels like I'm with water up to my neck, like I'm about to drown but not really."

Tyler saw the expression in Josh's face, a look of pity and worry in his dark brown eyes. He tried to shrug it off as best as he could. 

"It's really not that bad."

"It _sounds_ pretty awful, Ty." Josh said, not convinced at all. 

"I've always felt that way, Josh. Now it's just like a representation laid on my hands and neck."

Josh fell silent. He knew about what Tyler often felt, and he hated the fact that he didn't know what to do. How to fix it. Better Living's drugs usually kept him dazed, so he didn't complain about feeling any pain. Or anything at all. But now that they were off them, he was forced to deal with what he felt. 

He wasn't saying his mind was all butterflies and rainbows. The drugs kept his anxiety in line, controlled, so it didn't use to bother him. Now, he had felt the closing of his throat, the pressure in his chest, breathing became the most difficult thing in the world, he was going to start hyperventilating at seeing everything spin out of control. 

But he had swallowed everything, kept it in a sealed box and moved forward. And it was all for Tyler. When Tyler was in trouble, his own problems and demons could wait. He would _make them_ wait. Shoved them aside, and focus on Tyler. 

"Why did you pick that name?" Josh asked, remembering the words that had left Tyler's mouth while he was bleeding to death. 

"It just came to me. And... I _know_ he's there. I'm just telling him I'm aware and watching him closely. But that means he's also watching me." Tyler said, in a low voice. Then a little smile appeared on his face. "By the way, thanks for punching me - I mean, him."

"He deserved it. Does that hurt you though?"

"Not really." he lied. He didn't want Josh to worry anymore than he already was by telling him everytime he punched Blurryface he would also get the blow. That made him feel hopeless, like how was he supposed to get rid of Blurryface if he couldn't hurt him without hurting himself? 

"Does that mean that if he ever comes along, I can beat the crap out of him?"

"Yes. Please do that." Tyler said with no hesitation. Whenever Josh would punch Blurryface, he could feel him getting weaker. It still hurt, but he was willing to take it if that meant that _the other him_ took a beating. 

"There has to be a way to get this off you." Josh said, taking his hands in between his.  
Suddenly, he felt a chill of cold run through his veins, and he couldn't help moaning a little at how _good_ it felt. Josh looked up to him with a confused expression, and slowly retreated his hands. 

"No!" Tyler exclaimed. And then blushed a little bit and murmured. "It feels good... When you touch me." God, that sounded so wrong. He tried to hide it, but he saw Josh chuckling. 

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that... When you touch my hands, the heavyness goes away. It's like they're back to normal again. It feels different... It feels like the complete opposite of what it feels now. They feel light, and good."

Josh stayed silent, processing what Tyler had just said. Then he moved slowly and gently placed his palms around Tyler's black neck, seeing with delight how Tyler melted into his touch. 

"It's easier, I can breathe normally... I feel free from whatever this is." he said, smiling a little. He placed his own hands on top of Josh's, and they stayed there in comfortable silence, being close to each other. 

"Never take your hands off me." Tyler murmured, starting to feel sleepy. It sounded wrong, but Josh didn't mind. He placed a kiss on his forehead, and just stared at Tyler's peaceful features. 

But Josh couldn't have his hands on Tyler all the time, and even if he said it was okay, he saw Tyler flinch when the dark feeling rushed back to him when Josh took his hands away. 

 

The Youngbloods weren't back and it was kind of late, and for some reason he was extremely tired. Yes, he had spent the day practicing shooting and some hand-to-hand combat, but he felt like he had run miles. He passed it off as just him adapting to the new life in the desert. He tried to find Tyler so... So they could go to sleep together. 

He knew in the desert it was totally normal to sleep together with your partners, but they were... Different. He had heard the Youngblood's calling each other by their rebel names. But he didn't do that with Tyler, nor Tyler did it with him. He had always been 'Josh', and that wasn't going to change easily. 

It wasn't like he _enjoyed_ sleeping with Tyler. It was just that Tyler got cold at night. Yes, that was definitely it. Except it wasn't. There was no denying that Josh had a crush on his friend the size of Venus multiplied by the mass of the sun. But Tyler didn't know that, Josh was certain he thought of him as just a really close friend. Even a brother. 

Everytime he heard something about love, he would think about Tyler. When someone they knew got in a relationship, he thought about Tyler. When he saw a couple kissing in a dark alley, he thought about Tyler. When he thought about exactly why Believer was so upset, he thought about Tyler. Hell, when someone made dirty jokes he would think about Tyler. He wasn't exactly proud of that. 

So he searched for him throughout the house, and concluded he was not there. Well, maybe he was outside, or on the roof. Tyler was weird like that. But when he looked out the window, he froze in place and had to put a hand over his mouth to not say anything. 

Tyler was standing in front of two serious-looking guys in white suits, their dark hair pushed back and their lifeless eyes were fixed on Tyler. Except it wasn't Tyler. By going out the back door and slowly getting closer, he could see there was something off about Tyler. 

He was hunched a little bit, his face serious and stern. His chest rose with his breathing in an unnatural way, as if it was a machine processing oxygen. Most importantly, his eyes were red. 

"What about the boy?" one of the men asked. "Is he listening?"

Josh recognized those men, with the deep voice and all controlled-looking. Those were high ranked... Something, in Better Living Industries. He didn't exactly know what they did, but if they worked for BL/ind it couldn't be anything good. 

Blurryface scoffed, and a gross smile grew on his face. 

"He hears and feels everything. But that's okay. The boy's weak-minded. He won't say a thing."

Nobody could be strong-minded with that fucking leech in their brains. Josh kept silent, but inside he was about to explode. 

"He better not. If he even says a word, we'll kill him. And you will die with him."

That didn't seem to please Blurryface. The smile was wiped off his face in a second. 

"The soul of the body I possess will not reveal your secrets, I promise you." he said, trying to get the men to trust him. Josh felt sick, seeing his friend's body being controlled by that sick entity that made him have spasms and robotic-like twitches. 

"We have been informed that you behold a great power, difficult to understand and yet very effective on rebels."

"That's true. I can twist the mind in ways you could never imagine, that will leave you permanent, unerasable scars. I can destroy a person from the inside out, and the best part of all, gentlemen, is that I'm a silent killer, I will make them destroy each other and themselves."

"Better Living Industries wishes to use your power to eradicate the ones who go against progress, who go against us."

"I will exterminate everyone in your way. Men, women, guys and girls. Children. I do not discriminate, you see. I will wipe them all and your path will be free for you to go wherever you want with no interruption."

"What our Leader wonders, is what you ask in return. Know that Better Living Industries is willing to fulfill any request you may have."

"Oh." he exclaimed, and he looked genuinely surprised. "It is my total pleasure to help you. I do not ask for anything in return."

The men in the white suits didn't look convinced. So Blurryface explained further. 

"You see, gentlemen, I am an entity. Money and treasure, for me that's the same as insignificant dust. What I do value, is what I do.  I _feed_ off people's fear, insecurities. I feed off dispair and loneliness. It pleasures me to do what I do, it makes me stronger. Therefore, I believe this is a win-win situation."

After a moment of silence, the men nodded once. 

"We shall keep in secret all our knowledge. Keep them believing they're safe. And so shall you. This conversation never happened." 

"Glad to help you out, gentlemen." he hissed like a snake, and the men were gone. Josh stood there in shock not knowing what the hell to do, and then Blurryface turned his head and saw him. 

In a fraction of a second he was by his side, punching him square in the face. He had moved at an unhuman speed, and quickly pinned Josh to the ground, sitting on top of him and trying to knock him out. Or beat him to death. Josh got hold of his wrists and struggled to get him off him, but Blurryface was way stronger than him. Stronger than Tyler ever was. 

"Tyler...!" he grunted. "I know you're in there, Ty. Fight it. Follow my voice. This isn't you, Tyler!"

"Tyler's dead." Blurryface chanted, smiling broadly. "There's only ME."

"No!" he shouted, refusing to believe his words.  "Go away! Leave my friend alone! Leave!!"

"That won't work again, Josh." he murmured. "I'm stronger now. You shouldn't have taken him out of the city. Here, everybody is vulnerable. I can kill Tyler, and I can kill you."

Josh just wasn't giving up. He shouted for his friend and struggled, but it wasn't getting him anywhere. Blurryface wrapped his cold, black hands around his neck and started choking him. The fear kicked in just a second later. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, _he couldn't breathe_.

"Tyler..." he pleaded, tears starting to roll down his cheeks. "Please... H-help me... I can't..."

The veins under Blurryface's touch became black, and slowly pumped the dark sustance up Josh's brain. He was going crazy, everything was spinning wildly out of control... 

"No." a voice sounded, soft like a whisper, but it made Josh come back a little. 

"Tyler...?"

"Leave him alone." Tyler's voice said again, and through the tears he saw Blurryface's red demonic eyes widen in surprise. "Let him go. Do not touch him."

Tyler's voice sounded different. Strong, powerful, demanding. Authoritarian. Blurryface twitched painfully, his eyes rolled back and he fell on his back, leaving Josh still in a state of panic. When his brain processed that he could breathe, he rushed to Tyler's side and craddled him in his arms. 

"Ty, come on, wake up. Please..." he said, tapping his cheek gently. His eyelids fluttered open and he stared at him with those big, soft, beautiful brown eyes of his. 

"Josh...?" he whispered, looking around a little bit. 

He was back. 

Josh let a choked sob escape through his lips and hugged his friend close to his chest. Tyler smiled weakly and sighed. And suddenly, out of the blue, Josh leaned down and kissed him. 

A soft, loving kiss was placed on his lips. He felt the weight of the black on his skin disappear, and a warm feeling spread throughout his chest. He felt the dark energy inside him writhe, like it was in pain. Like it was dying. And it felt so relieving...  
Tyler thought it was the heat of the moment, that Josh was just really happy to see he was okay... 

Then he pulled back, staring at him with wide eyes. "I'm sorry." he breathed out. "Tyler, I..."

"It's okay." he soothed him. "We're safe."

"Thank you." Josh said, Tyler still lying in his arms. "For saving me."

Tyler just smiled. 

"He can shove _me_ around, but I'll never let him hurt you. I promise."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black Believer had been on his knees for a long time, staring at the ground. He cried silently the whole time, and when American Phoenix had picked him off the ground, he looked... Dead. His eyes were plain and unfocused, staring at infinity. Phoenix wasn't sure if he could hear him. He was extremely worried about his friend. 

Kobra had meant the world to him, he would constantly drag him along with him wherever he went. The two grew to be inseparable, always holding hands, Believer leaning onto him for support and Kobra wrapping his whole, tall self around Believer's small frame. 

Kobra would stay for the night, and when they weren't doing things, Believer was sleeping with his head on Kobra's chest, their arms around each other. Kobra always had trouble sleeping, and Phoenix saw him awake, caressing Pete's hair absently. They would look at each other with pure adoration, and it had been a while since Pete had smiled so much. It only happened when Kobra was around.

He made Pete happy.

So Phoenix was worried that Pete would go back into that dark place they didn't talk about. After they had come home, he walked directly into his room and lied on the bed, on _his_ side of the bed, curled up into a little ball and staring longly at the empty space beside him. The yellow helmet was in between Pete's arms, and he didn't give any signs of letting it go any time soon. 

"Pete..." Phoenix started, but quickly shut it when he said:

"Leave me alone, Patrick."

He sighed and went out the room, muttering a 'call me if you need anything' before shutting the door. He supposed Pete needed some time to his own, to mourn and grieve properly. It was something Patrick couldn't understand, but he knew Pete loved the Killjoy. He just couldn't understand the pain of losing someone so important, it was a long time ago and the memory of such pain had faded and had been replaced with more present memories.

Sure, he had suffered and still got a little emotional whenever he thought about how he had almost lost Pete, not in battle, but to his own depression. It was something they didn't talk about. But this was different, Patrick knew Pete wanted to marry that guy. So he decided to give him some space, but still keep an eye on him. 

Spooky Jim got him out of his thoughts. He looked beated and tired, barely standing. 

"They know, Phoenix." he said, simply.

"Who? Know what?" he questioned, confused. 

"Better Living Industries." he said, in a low voice tinted with pain. "They know about this place and who knows what more. And they're going to use Blurryface against us. All of us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is so late!  
> But it's been absolute hell, and I guess I have a Blurryface of my own. So that's been hard lately. 
> 
> Sorry once again :)
> 
> In compensation, here's a long chapter for you. ;)
> 
> Love you all <3


	6. We're Not Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not looking good, and the rebel groups are joining forces. Party and Believer are barely keeping it together...
> 
> **trigger warning for mentions of self harm, please be safe**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Youngblood's car is the one red truck in the Just One Yesterday music video ;)

As soon as that information came along, the Youngbloods started moving. Packing whatever stuff they needed, getting ready to get out. American Phoenix wondered exactly how long had BL/ind known about their lair. More importantly, _why_ did they know that. And if they knew, why hadn't they attacked them yet. 

It was all very confusing, but time was precious and not to be wasted asking too many questions. He didn't understand the Blurryface part of the story. How could BL/ind be planning to use him against the rebels? The kid had barely any training and had spent only two days out in the desert. Also, he kind of still had that city vibe going on. Sure, Phoenix was curious about the black stuff on his hands and neck, but hadn't had time to ask. 

"Is he up yet?" Phoenix asked. 

"By that you mean 'is he out of his room?'" Alpha Dog answered, looking towards the door. "Then the answer's no."

Phoenix sighed and ran a hand throught his blond hair, messing it up. "Get him out. We need to leave." he said, running towards the front door. "Drag him out if you have to."

Blurryface and Spooky Jim were already out, looking like they felt out of place. Jim had his arm around his friend and was in a really vigilant posture. Almost as if he was protecting Blurryface, who looked really tired. 

He heard arguing inside the house and then Alpha stepped through the door dragging a very annoyed Believer. The small black haired man approached Phoenix and said:

"What da hell is this all about, Patrick." his voice was low and menacing. He definitely didn't want to be disturbed while he was in his fantasy world with his dead boyfriend. 

"I know you want space, Believer." he answered, keeping his voice gentle. "But we're not safe here, BL/ind knows about this place so we need to move."

"Yeah?" he didn't look interested. It was normal for Pete to be careless (and a little bit of an asshole) when he was sad. Patrick understood that. "Where will we go?"

Patrick bit his lip a little bit and braced himself for how Pete was going to react. Bachelor's place was way to little for all six of them, Dr D's station was a mistery to them along with all the other rebel lairs. So, they had no choice but... 

"The diner. We'll be staying with the Killjoys."

Believer's eyes sparked with pain, but other than that he didn't say or do anything. He just shrugged and went back to his room to retreat some of his stuff. Among those things, Kobra's helmet. Everyone in the group was worried he was starting to develop some kind of fixation. 

Phoenix jumped into the red truck's driver's seat, and started the engine. Believer climbed into the passanger seat without saying a word, while the others would have to travel in the back. They had covered the back of the truck with a black sailcloth so they could sit there under it without being seen. Alpha and Serpent jumped into the back of the truck and kept the sailcloth raised so Blurryface and Jim could get in. It was hard for them, since they were so small. But finally, Alpha closed the trunk and they were left in darkness as the truck started moving. 

In the front seats, Phoenix had his eyes fixed on the road, but stole quick glances to Believer, who had his eyes closed and his head resting on the window. One of his hands was wrapped around Kobra's helmet and the other was holding his head, exposing his wrist. 

"Pete." Phoenix called, his voice stern. Pete opened his eyes and looked at him, without any expression. "I know you're hurting, Pete. But you know you can talk to me, about anything, right?"

"I know. I just don't want to bore you with my rant about how life's so unfair, we've been throught this before."

"Then you should know it doesn't bother me." Patrick said, praying for Pete to believe him. "I know you need some kind of release, and when you don't get that..."

"I'm not going to kill myself, Patrick." he answered firmly. "Not this time. Kobra... He knew about that. What I tried to do. He made me promise not to do it again, whatever happened. I'm not going to break that promise."

Patrick smiled a little. 

"You know I'm always taking care of you, right?"

"Yes, buddy, I know."

~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun entered through the diner's window, illuminating the space with golden light. Ghoul opened his eyes and blinked a couple times, seeing the dust particles swirling around him. Them. Party was still sound sleep, his fiery hair all messy and his eyelids still a little red. There were fresh tear trails on his face, so Ghoul assumed he had started crying in his sleep. 

He got up and stretched already thinking what they should do. Normally they would go wherever Dr D told them there was trouble, and spend the day killing dracs and saving people. And Ghoul had _begged_ the Doctor to tell them where they could help, but in the end he didn't. 

"You need time." he had said. Ghoul thought - knew that what Party needed was a distraction. Being alone with his thoughts was harmful for him. But it was not like they could run around looking for trouble. He was too deep into his own thoughts that Ghoul didn't notice Party waking up, breathing heavily and calling for him. 

"Mm, Frank?" he muttered, sleep still present in his voice. 

"Good morning, sunshine." he responded, giving him a sweet smile. "There's coffee on the kitchen counter."

Gerard ruffled his hair and got up slowly, tumbling towards the kitchen in search of his cup of liquid gold. It was a gift from Frank, he knew how much Gerard loved coffee, and it wasn't something common in the Zones. 

"Mmm coffee, coffee." he heard Gerard moan from the kitchen, and smiled a little bit. Maybe Gerard was going to be okay, maybe he was already moving on. Frank prayed for that to be true. 

"D says everything's calm and quiet." Ghoul informed while Party sipped his coffee with a pleasured expression. "So... I guess today's our day off."

Party nodded and Ghoul could see that in his eyes he was actually pleased. He stared at Party longer than necessary, before the sound of a car filled the surroundings. He saw Party tense up, so he went to the window to see what was all about. "It's fine, it's the Youngbloods." he said when he saw the red truck approuching the diner. 

The Youngbloods jumped out of their truck, along with two other guys Ghoul didn't recognize. They were both short, with brown hair and brown eyes, but one of them had black paint smeared on his hands and neck. Party opened the door to let them in, and gave all of them a small smile. He looked away when Believer entered, holding Mikey's helmet. Gerard had his bandanna still wrapped around his hand, and stroked it gently. 

"Hey, what brings you guys to our humble home?" Ghoul asked, leaning against a wall. 

"Our lair's being compromised." Phoenix explained. "Better Living holds a lot of information, we couldn't afford to stay there. Sorry."

"Wait, what kind of information?" Ghoul asked, a little nervous by the presence of those two guys he didn't know. 

"We don't know exactly. But BL/ind wants to make us think we're safe. Really we don't know. I couldn't let my guys stay in the storage house any longer."

There it was. American Phoenix, the leader, the one taking the hard desitions and protecting his 'guys'. The short man looked strong even if, in reality, he was a cinnamon roll. 

"How do you know all this?" Party questioned. 

"Oh, pardon me." Phoenix said, with a smile. "These are Blurryface and Spooky Jim."

"New flesh, huh?" Ghoul said, examining the two guys standing close to each other. "You guys escaped from Battery?"

"Yes. Two days ago." the guy with the blackened hands and neck said. "And my friend  Jo - Spooky Jim, overheard a conversation between Better Living executives."

"Well, name's Fun Ghoul, kids. And this is the top Killjoy, Party Poison."

"Pleasure." Party said. He had been quiet the whole time, just roaming around with his eyes. 

"Your hair looks amazing." Jim said, curious. "That color really suits you."

What was that newbie doing flirting with Gerard. Yes, his red hair was beautiful, but damn. He needed to stop flirting with Gerard. And the worst thing was that Party smiled at him. They both needed to stop. Because reasons, not that Ghoul was jealous or anything. 

"You want to dye your hair?" Party continued as everyone got comfortable. Ghoul still followed them with his eyes. 

"Yeah! I've always wanted to. But I'm no expert in, you know, getting things in the desert."

"Woah, you and your friend still got a lot to learn." Party said. "What color do you have in mind?"

"Bright pink." 

"Yeah, I can see that. I can help you out if you want."

"Really? That'll be awesome!"

Stop flirting with Gerard, dammit. Ghoul scoffed and rolled his eyes. Who does he think he is? Huh? 

He couldn't continue with his internal rant because suddenly, the windows exploted. Everyone was knocked off their feet and pushed through the floor, the wave of heat hitting their face. Ghoul fell on his arm and groaned in pain, then he covered his head as another explotion shook the walls of the diner. 

A group of draculoids with horrible white masks rushed through the door, holding up their rayguns. Ghoul reached for his own weapon and quickly opened fire against the enemies. He looked around quickly and saw the Youngbloods crouching behind a booth, Phoenix whisper-shouting orders to the others as they shot the dracs. 

He saw Jim shooting as well, and he had to give it to the guy, he had really good aim. He looked for Gerard but didn't see him anywhere. He turned his head to keep shooting, and that's when he saw Blurryface standing in between the dracs, a gross smile on his face. 

The black paint in his hands seemed to go darker, if that was even possible, and a black smoke started coming out of his blood-red eyes. And Gerard was there too. On his knees, looking up and breathing heavily. 

Blurryface's hands were lingering around Gerard's head, and Ghoul could see black veins under Party's skin, dark substance crawling up into his brain... So he raised his raygun to shoot him. As he pulled the trigger, Jim took hold of his hand and diverted the tragectory of the gun. 

It still hit Blurryface, in the shoulder making a sizzling sound as it burned the skin and insides. Ghoul felt anger burning in his chest and despite the soreness of his muscles, he bolted forward and punched Blurryface in the face with all his might. Party fell backwards, holding his neck and breathing heavily. Ghoul pounded at the guy with his fists since Jim had taken his raygun. 

All the dracs were dead and lying on the floor, but Ghoul wasn't done yet. _Nobody_ hurt Gerard, even if he didn't know what da hell this guy with black hands was doing to him it was some freaky shit and there was no way Ghoul was allowing that. 

"Please!" Jim cried, getting in between Ghoul and his friend. "Please stop! You're killing him!"

Then he felt someone's arms closing around him, and Ghoul fought to get free.

"Control yourself, Ghoul!" Inked Serpent mumbled in his ear, his strong tattooed arms closing tighter knocking the air out of him. 

"Okay." he said, with his teeth clenched. "Okay!"

Serpent held him a little longer and then let him go, and Ghoul could breathe properly again. He rushed towards Gerard, who was lying on the floor staring at the ceiling and clawing at his chest. 

"Party!" he said, helping him sit up. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? What did that bastard do to you?"

Party didn't answer, and looked at his back. Glass shards were sticking out of his jacket, fresh blood sliding through the fabric. He still clenched his chest, as if he was having a heart attack or something. 

Ghoul looked around only to see Alpha Dog lying on the floor with his partners around him, Phoenix pressing his hand to a bleeding wound in his abdomen. Spooky Jim was holding Blurryface, who was unconscious. Only then could Ghoul appreciate what he had done. 

His face was completely destroyed, his nose and mouth were bleeding, his skin was starting to swell and bruise. 

He felt a little guilty, seeing his bloody knuckles and the kid's face. 

The rebels that were unhurt started moving quickly, bringing the first-aid kit and laying Alpha Dog on a table. Ghoul helped Party on his feet and made him sit in a booth, analizing the glass shards buried in his shoulder blade. 

"You need stitches." he said in a low voice, and he heard the little whine that escaped through Party's lips. Ghoul steadied his hands to carefully pull out the shards and controlled the bleeding when it started, ignoring Party's little muffled screams. When he had the needle in his hands, he said:

"Look away. It'll be quick."

That didn't calm Party at all. But he trusted Ghoul, since... Jet had taught him how to patch people up. He drove the needle through Party's skin and started to slowly work his way through all the wounds. Party just stayed really still, he held his breath the whole time. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite name. 

The memory of the... Feeling of the darkness swirling into his brain, setting in his chest and squeezing his heart just couldn't stop re-playing in his head... So he focused on the feeling of Ghoul's touch. He wanted to feel numb so bad... But he hadn't in years. So he sucked it up. 

He saw Jim still on the floor, and he felt a pang of pity seeing the guy looking so distressed, not knowing exactly what to do. 

 

Josh's brain was racing, his fear and anxiety kicking in just now. Tyler was still out, and he was bleeding from the shot he received on his shoulder. The wound was scorched and it really looked bad. He bit his lip harshly and took his shirt off, pressing the cloth to the wound to stop the bleeding. 

He looked around hopelessly, and saw all of the others helping each other out. He realized he was all Tyler had, and that nobody was going to help him after what happened. Josh didn't blame them, they didn't know it wasn't exactly Tyler... 

He tore his shirt apart, and tied the fabric around Tyler's shoulder, making a rustic tourniquet. He used the other part of his shirt to carefully clean the blood off his face, stealing glances at Ghoul. Tyler was looking better after a while, and Josh just held him in his arms, waiting for him to wake up. 

Party Poison approuched them slowly, and Josh tensed up visibly. He was holding a little bottle and some bandages, and cautiously knelt down to offer them to him. Josh trusted Party, so he let him get close to Tyler and he cared for his wound. He patched him up, and Josh whispered a little 'thank you'. 

Tyler was called to consciousness by the pain, and he curled up against Josh. 

"I'm sorry." he whispered, barely able to open his eyes. 

"It wasn't you." Josh answered, looking around to see that everyone had listened. 

"They're gonna kill me, aren't they?" 

"I'm not gonna let them." he said outloud, for everyone to hear. He stared at Ghoul intensely, and tried to deliver the message with his eyes.

"How did they know about this place?" Party said, looking around for answers. 

"It's obvious. Someone talked. We have a fucking mole." Ghoul said, staring at Tyler and Josh accusably. Josh stared back until Phoenix said:

"It wasn't them. Jim was the one to tell us about the whole situation. Besides, they have been with us all the time. They didn't leave the lair at all."

Josh gave him a thankful look, and Phoenix just nodded at him. 

"BL/ind knows about this place too, we're not safe here anymore." Ghoul said, clenching his fists at the thought of having to leave his home. 

"Alpha is not in condition to travel." Phoenix said firmly. "And we're not leaving him. You can run for it if you want, but we're staying at least for the night."

"We're not running." Ghoul said, a little offended by the Youngblood's assumption. "And you need to explain what da hell you did to Party. How are you involved in all this. I want to hear the awesome explanation that justifies this." he said, motioning to the destroyed surroundings. 

"He's barely able to keep his eyes open." Josh reproached him, frowning a little. 

"Let him rest for tonight, Ghoul." Party said, with his leader voice. "We'll figure this out tomorrow." 

Ghoul grunted but left the pair alone, off to set places for everyone to sleep. The Youngbloods all set on the floor around their wounded friend, receiving the blankets with gratitude. Josh and Tyler didn't get a blanket until Party scolded Ghoul. Then they got one thrown at them. 

Josh wrapped it around Tyler and placed his head on his lap. 

"Aren't you cold?" Tyler asked, seeing that Josh was still shirtless. 

"Don't worry. We can both fit under this one." he answered, softly stroking Tyler's hair. 

Party did rounds to give everyone food and fluids, and it could be said that he was more friendly and kind than Ghoul, who just stared at him from far away. It pleased him to see Party like that, helping others out because he knew that Party liked that. That made him believe that Party was indeed getting better. 

When in reality he was getting worst. 

•••

Believer went out of the destroyed diner in order to get some fresh air. Holy shit. He was still processing what had happened, he hadn't had had to shoot his gun in a long time, it had been a period of just hiding and being careful. The rush of adrenaline had left him dizzy, and he needed to clear his head. 

He walked over to the patch of dirt that marked where his lover was buried. He stared at the softened ground and sat at the edge. It was dumb, what he was about to do. He knew that. 

"Hey, Mikes." he said, touching the ground as if that would make the connection stronger. "You know me, I feel stupid doing this. But... I want to believe you're not completely gone, you know?"

Silence. Complete silence, not even the wind was howling. 

"So... How's it going up there?" he continued, the feeling of stupidity washing off as he realized that was actually making him feel a little better. Like that sudden chill in his back was a sign that he was been heard. Maybe he was going crazy. "I hope you're getting enough sleep now, and... It's there air conditioning in heaven? I hope there is. There's people you know up there with you, right? Your mom. I bet you're happy to see her again. I... I really hope you're at peace, Mikes, you deserve it after all. But you know what? It bothers me. That... You left without me."

He sighed, and his breath formed a little cloud in front of him. That was weird...

"Wanna know how I pictured it? Not that I thought about us dying a lot but... I'm weird like that. I imagined us fighting together, many many years from now. You were still hella beautiful, I was still hella short." he smiled a little, remembering how Mikey used to tease him playfully. "You still called me sweet little dude. And yeah we would be fighting against Better Living, and it was all very intense. And then they would shoot me, square in the chest. Mainly because I was taking too many on at the same time. Typical of me. So I fall to the ground, and I see your beautiful frame running towards me..."

He had to stop. Tears were forming in his eyes so he blinked them away. 

"And you'd kneel, and you'd get shoot too, so we both lie there, in each other's arms, whispering I love you's and dying together in battle like the epic heroes we were. That was my epic ending to our epic story. But BL/ind had to ruined it for me. Wanna know a little secret? I wanted to marry you." he said, rubbing  his hands together. 

"I wanted you to be mine forever, Mikeyway. I wanted to be yours forever. That's how much I loved you. Hell, I still love you, so much it hurts. I wanted to get on one knee and offer you a ring, I wanted you to say yes and then I would spin you around... And now I feel so goddamn lonely. But you won't be seeing me anytime soon. I know you wouldn't want me to go meet you so early. I promised you, right? I miss you a lot, it's been hell down here. Would you come to me in my dreams? That'll be nice. Maybe come back as a ghost, I could work with that. If I get, say, a ouija board, would you answer me? I just..."

He started crying, hot tears rolling down his cheeks and sobs hitching his breathing. He clawed at the ground with all his might, in need of release. 

"I need to know that you're not completely gone!" he cried. "That you're still by my side, somehow..."

He felt the breeze caress his arms, brush his hair out of his face in an almost soothing matter. The wind started whistling softly, and Pete, in his pain-induced madness, took it as the sign he needed. So he smiled sadly, and slowly went back inside, hoping no one had seen him talking to his dead boyfriend. 

What he didn't notice was Party staring at him through the window the whole time. 

•••

Tyler was comfortably cuddled up with Josh, under a soft blanket. They were cramped in one of the booths by a window, so the moonlight came through the glass and made shadows appear in both their faces. 

"Josh?" he asked, to see if his friend was still awake. 

"Yeah?" he answered. 

"...I need to talk to you." 

Was that a similar version of 'we need to talk'? What was it he wanted to talk about? The kiss?  It had to be the kiss. They hadn't talked about the kiss, or said anything about it. Was Tyler about to say he didn't like him that way? That what he did was inappropiate and would ruin their friendship? He didn't want to lose Tyler, _he couldn't lose Tyler_.

"I'm sorry." he blurted out, and Tyler gave him a strange look. 

"I haven't said anything, Josh. What are you apologizing for?"

Shit. Good job Josh. Good job. 

"Um, nothing. What do you want to talk about?"

"...There's a lot happening, and... I'm feeling awful. Something I did got people hurt, is endagering all this rebel community and... I feel like I can never be part of it, because all I bring is trouble for everyone, for you..."

"That's not true, Ty." Josh said, running a soothing hand up and down his back. 

"It is, Josh. I've tried to kill you, and I can never forgive myself for that."

"It was not you. I do not blame you for any of this. If anything you are a victim..."

"I was there, Josh. In the back of my mind, watching myself try to choke you and..." a broken sob escaped his lips and Josh saw his eyes full of pain. 

"You stopped, Tyler. You didn't kill me, I'm here, I'm still alive." he said and caressed his hair softly. "That means you can come back whenever that happens."

"No, Josh... It's getting harder to control." he cried. "Since we left the City it's been hell..."

He brought his hands up to cover his face in shame, and Josh noticed something red on his wrist... Without thinking about it, he wrapped his fingers around his wrist and Tyler winced in pain. 

He saw the thin, red lines that went down Tyler's wrist, the contrast with the black making them stand out like a gross reminder. It was like the air was knocked out of him, trying to process exactly _when_ had Tyler done that. The thought of him alone dragging a blade on his skin and watching the blood flow brought tears to his eyes. 

Tyler curled up in shame and held his wrist close to his chest, not finding the courage to look up at Josh. He knew that what he had done was wrong, but the stinging pain gave him some kind of... It distracted him from all the noise going on in his head. 

"I'm sorry." he said, in a very low voice.

"I don't blame you, Ty. I blame him." Josh said, picking his words very carefully. "But this is exactly what he wants. If you ever feel the urge to do this again, I want you to find me. And you'll take my arm and cut me as much as you would on your own skin."

"Josh..."

"Do it to me, just don't do it to yourself." he said, and took Tyler's hands in between his. The cold, pleasurable feeling rushed through his skin, making him relax... Until he snatched his own hands away.

"I don't deserve it. I've done terrible things, to you... To others... I think I should just... Get it all over with."

"You'd have to kill me first." Josh said, firmly. "Or I would have to follow you..."

"No!" Tyler exclaimed. His head was spinning and he just wanted it all to stop... 

"Suicide kills two people, Tyler. Please... Don't do that to me..." he pleaded, and Tyler started crying so hard that he was afraid the others might wake up. 

"Why do I even matter to you, Josh?!" he whimpered. "I'm a mess! I can't control my own head, I cut my wrists because there's a sick monster inside of me that makes me turn into a psycho! Nobody could ever love me!"

"I love you."

There. He said it. It was out. Tyler knew. He fell silent and his sobbing stopped. He started breathing normally, and he looked up at Josh through his eyelashes. He looked so innocent, and cute. 

"You love me?" he asked in a really low voice, as if they were sharing a secret.

"Yes Ty, I love you. I've loved you ever since I met you. Since I saw your face light up with laughter, I fell in love with you slowly. I've always wanted you, Tyler. I want to protect you, to take care of you. That's why I'm still here, that's why you matter to me, because I love you."

"Why? - why didn't you say anything earlier?" he questioned, his hands placed on Josh's chest. 

"I was afraid it would ruin what we had..." he admitted, and felt his face blush. 

"You thought I didn't love you?"

"Yeah... Not in that way. And I would rather spend my whole life staring from a distance and not being able to kiss you than telling you how I felt and that you'd leave me."

"Oh, Josh..." Tyler said, and slowly moved to lie on top of him. 

They stared at each other, Josh's hands carefully placing themselves on Tyler's waist. And then, Tyler kissed him. He closed his eyes and let their lips move against each other's, a warm feeling spreading throughout Tyler's chest, a sensation so different from the usual pain and pressure. This took his breath away in a completely different way, he felt... Loved. Josh loved him. 

Tyler loved him. It was almost a relief to finally have him between his arms, kissing him deeply and showing him how much he meant to him. The whole world. He felt so damn happy... 

They both fell asleep there, Tyler on top of him and Josh hugging him tighly. 

 

All Believer could think, seeing such heartwarming scene, was that someday, one of them will die and the other will be left alone. Because in the Zones, love was a privilege, and it was _always_ meant to end in tears. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Can't sleep?" Ghoul asked, seeing Phoenix stare through the window, almost as if he was in guard duty. 

"Yeah, I'm tired as hell but can't seem to fall sleep." he answered, and rubbed his cheek were a thin slash was starting to heal.

"Did you get that checked?" Ghoul asked. 

"It's just a scratch... Well look at that, you can actually be nice." Phoenix said, a smug smile in his face. Ghoul rolled his eyes. 

"I just don't like red-eyed freaks doing freaky shit to my Party - I mean, friend."

Phoenix raised an eyebrow and Ghoul pretended not to be dying on the inside. 

"It's obvious Ghoul, please. It hurts to see it."

"See what?" he asked, playing dumb. 

"You like Poison." Phoenix stated. "As a matter of fact, you have the hots for him. You're in love, Fun Ghoul. And there's nothing you can do about it."

Ghoul sighed and gave the short man a murderous look. He just smiled. 

"Is it that obvious?" he questioned, a little concerned about the possibility of him wearing his secret on his face. 

"Not really, I can tell Party doesn't have a clue." Phoenix said, and that actually helped him calm down. "But to me? It's like it's written with sharpie all over your face. The way you stared at Spooky Jim when he started talking to him, the way you beat the crap out of Blurryface... And most importantly, how you look at him. Like he's the light of your entire life. And you know what? That's how Believer used to look at Kobra. That's how I know, you're in love with him."

Ghoul fell silent, with a thingly feeling in his gut. Phoenix noticed his blushing face even in the dark, and smiled. 

"Love is a valuable thing, Ghoul. Cherish it."

"Have you ever been in love?" Ghoul asked, and immediately regretted it when he saw pain and nostalgia in Phoenix's eyes. 

"Once. I was very young, fresh out of Battery City. I met this girl, whose name was Elisa. And I went through all the phases of crushing on someone. I looked at her as if she was the light guiding me, my compass. And she really was. Taught me everything I know, and made me feel like life wasn't so crappy after you leave the City. She loved me for who I was, and that hadn't happened like, ever. What haunted me for a while was the fact that I wasn't able to save her. She was my first love, and certainly my last one."

"Sorry for asking." Ghoul apologized. He didn't want anyone to relive their sad love stories. Mainly because he though about losing Gerard a little too much. 

"It's okay." Phoenix smiled. "It was a long time ago. And now I have my guys to take care of. Remembering all this, leads me to think we are somehow different."

"What do you mean?"

"The desert changes us. I haven't been able to love anyone that way, not after Elisa. I know Believer won't be having another boyfriend after Kobra. Maybe it's different, if you get dumped it still hurts but you can move on, but we lost our loved ones to the war. They're completely gone. So... When you love someone so much, and they die... You'll be stuck in time, and can't make yourself love someone else."

Ghoul thought about it, processing Phoenix's words. Even if he and Gerard weren't a thing, would he be able to love someone else if he died? 

"I'm sorry, for boring you with my existencial rants." Phoenix smiled apologetically. 

"No problem." Ghoul answered. "I was about to start ranting about how Poison sneaked out like a teenager and I don't know where the hell he is."

Phoenix chuckled, and patted Ghoul's shoulder. 

"We're not so different, Fun Ghoul. You, me,  Spooky Jim. You see, we all have someone we care about that is broken, and we're trying desperately to put them back together. 'Cause that's what he do, we mend people. And... Sometimes we're there for everyone but they don't stop and think about how we feel."

Ghoul really felt like Phoenix was right. He looked at the short man, who was now staring at the Younbloods lying on the floor, pressed up against Alpha. Protecting him. 

"Poison will be fine, don't worry." Phoenix reassure him, and Ghoul fought to believe it. "He knows better than to get himself in trouble."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Party knew better than to get himself in trouble. But what he felt in his chest was way too much to handle. His brother, Ray, the world slowly falling apart, them progressively losing the war, it was all too overwhelming. He had sneaked out of the diner and fortunately for him Ghoul hadn't woken up. 

If he had caught him, Party would be in serious trouble. Even if he was the leader and Ghoul was used to been ordered around, he still reminded Gerard that he couldn't just do whatever the hell he wants. Ghoul was capable of chaining him to himself. Which was something Party would like to avoid. 

He stood there, in the underground market, tapping the floor with his boot. At night, the market was filled with dealers willing to sell really freaky shit. The people around him were either passed out on the floor, or looking like they were about to. 

The man he wanted to meet appeared in between the shadows, and smiled. 

"The great Party Poison, leader of the fucking revolution. Haven't seen you in a while." the man mocked him. Gerard had known him for quite some time, but still didn't know his name, and he looked completely different. More haggard and way older than he really was. 

Probably because he kept some of the stuff to himself. 

"What brings you back, Poison?" the man asked. "You're not a teenage boy that liked to fill his lungs and brain with smoke until he wouldn't feel a thing anymore. You're a grown man, you are a leader... We can say you grew out of all this. Your hair looks amazing by the way, it's really a change from the old long dirty black hair that was constantly drenched in sweat..."

Party didn't like to be reminded of his past, it made him feel even worst standind there now. He shook his head, and decided to not be influenced by the man. 

"I just need one box. That's it. You won't see me anymore after that."

The man suddenly laughed, looking at Party with disbelief. 

"One box? You mean like, only one box? You must be kidding! You used to chain-smoke that shit because 'living is overrated'" he said, doing his best impression of sad drugged teen. 

"I'm not like that anymore." Party growled, starting to grow impatient. 

"Something must have happened for you to come crawling back to me!" he said, but upon seeing Party's death glare, he continued without joking. "The thing is, Party, I don't sell petty little cigarettes anymore. I think nobody here does. Because people have bigger problems, so we have stronger stuff."

Party thought about it for a second. He didn't want to almost die of an overdose with that 'stronger stuff', he wanted the 'petty little cigarettes' because he knew his limits with that. He was familiar with it, not that he was proud of that. 

"What's the least strong thing you have?" he asked. 

The man went to a little counter and got two little bottles filled with transparent liquid out of the drawer. "This thing's a designer drug from up north. Very cheap and very mild, if you ask me."

Okay. That didn't sound so bad. But there seemed to be a problem. 

"Can I, like, drink that?"

The man smiled and scoffed, shaking his head a little and making greasy strands of dark hair fall on his face. "If you knew how many times I've heard that. No, Party. You can't just drink it.  These are drugs, not alcohol. You have to inject it for it to work."

"Is there anything I can use without needles?" Party asked. He was in pain and he was desperate, but he wasn't going to stab himself with a needle. No way. It was already terrifying to get stitches, there was absolutely _no way in hell_ he was sticking that under his skin and pumping a liquid into his veins. "Pills, or something?"

"Why you gotta make my life so difficult?! Yes, I can give you pills. Painkillers, mostly. I have antidepressants and mild sedatives. If you're really desperate, I've got this." he said, shaking a little prescription bottle with Better Living's happy face on it. 

He stayed silent for a moment, actually considering taking the Better Living pills. They were supposed to numb your emotions, right? That was what he wanted... 

"Side effects?" he asked, in hopes of getting a solid answer. 

"You know them. Have been fighting them for a long time, right?" of course. Those drugs twisted your mind, slowly stripped you of your personality... Would slowly turn you into a slave. Party had been fighting those slaves, as well as all the rebels. 

"Fine. I'll take them."

"Sorry, which ones?"

"All of them."

The man's eyes widened, and he slowly started packing the little prescription bottles. He kept firing worried glances at him, until he asked:

"You're not going to kill yourself, are you?"

Party scoffed and rolled his eyes. He was growing anxious by the second and just didn't have time for that. 

"Would I have asked so many damn questions if I only wanted to overdose?"

The man considered Party's answer and shrugged. "Fair enough." he said, handing him the paper bag. "You can take one of each and swallow the four at a time. One dose for a day. One more pill and you're dead."

"How much?" Party asked. And the man simply smiled. 

"First one's free." he sang, and then disappeared. 

Party looked down at the bag, seeing all the bottles and the pills jiggling together. He sighed. Maybe it would make him feel better. 

Gerard just didn't know what he was getting himself into.


	7. I Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Believer goes for a walk. Everything changes.

Black Believer had gone for a walk in the early morning. The still cold air filled his lungs and his feet made the fine sand swirl around. He wanted to be alone, and was grateful that Phoenix hadn't stopped him, even though he was completely awake. 

The diner wasn't far, he had been walking in a straight line so he couldn't get lost. A little up ahead there was a figure covered with a black cloak. His first instinct was to turn around and leave, but instead his hand flew towards his gun. The figure turned his head in almost a mechanical way, and below the hood Believer could see it was a woman. 

Her face was delicate and small, she couldn't be more than 16 years old. Her skin was greyish and was covered with dark patterns, like symbols placed on her cheekbones. They looked like tattoos. Her eyes were an unnatural bright yellow, and were framed by thick, long eyelashes. Her lips were thin and small, they didn't look like she could move them to speak at all. If she had any hair, it was covered by the hood and Believer couldn't see it. 

"I know how to bring Mikey back." the girl said. 

And Believer, trusting every word, said:

"Tell me everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	8. Don't you worry, Little Phoenix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Believer met with the mysterious girl, he's willing to do anything to have his lover back. Party is keeping a secret and going deeper into the rabbit hole, while Phoenix tries to figure it all out on his own.

Fever closed his eyes tightly and tried to ignore the fact that his head was about to explode. Quite a hard thing to do. After what seemed like ages, the grip on his hair tightened and yanked him out, leaving him only few seconds to breathe and then sumerging him yet again. 

He struggled, but he kept growing weaker and weaker. Maybe he should just go limp, see if that made Korse stop. A second later he realized he was out again, water streaming down his face and getting into his mouth. He spat and coughed, blinking in an attempt to see clearly. 

"You are just making it more difficult for yourself, Ryan." Korse said, actually starting to get bored of his little torture game. "Why can't you just do what I tell you? You always have."

"I'm done playing with the bad guys." Ryan said,  his voice weak and broken. 

"Who says we are the bad guys? We forgave you countless times, Ryan. _I_ took you under my wing and I have protected you, given you all the amenities you ever wanted. And this is how you repay me?!"

"I don't want to be your little puppet anymore!" it was not worth it anymore. He thought he was doing things right, working for Better Living as long as no one got hurt. He got all the things the rebels would kill for, so what was the down side? 

"This rebellion fit is because that guy, Bachelor, right?" Korse asked, more to himself than to Ryan. "I knew we shouldn't have sent you out so early. You were not loyal enough not to turn on us. You went out there to work! Not to make friends! Those filthy rebels filled your head with nonsense and now look at you! You've turned into one of them!"

He didn't say anything. He could deny it, beg Korse to forgive him, say he'll do anything. He would have. But that wasn't him anymore. He couldn't deny it, cause it was true. Little by little, he had realized what BL/ind really did. It was not until he saw Party Poison crying and screaming with his dead brother in his arms that Ryan knew something was wrong about what he thought was right. 

Living in the desert was total hell, yes, but people made a difference. People who didn't know each other were willing to jump in front of a bullet or shove each other out of danger. People with no relation at all, formed families. Those people, with their colorful clothes and extravagant hair, with permanent scars and skins gilded by the sun, had stronger bonds than anyone in the entire Battery City. 

"You want me to get Bachelor and skin him in front of you?" Korse hissed, dragging Ryan by the hair towards the door. "I'll do it, if that's what it takes to make you do your fucking job." the bald man threw a bloodied and scared Ryan out of the base, and the boy's little body hit the sand painfully. 

"Go. And this time, don't come back until you have American Phoenix tied at my feet."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was some crazy stuff in the Zones. But nobody knew about the mad woman who apparently was a witch. Believer thought that nobody made it out of there alive. The little cabin smelled like someone had _died_ there three weeks ago. That scenario wasn't so unlikely. The windows were blocked with some very thick cloth so no sun at all could get in. 

Believer stumbled upon various objects he didn't want to think too much about, but the woman didn't seem to have that problem. 

"Who are you?" Believer inquired, afraid he was getting into something really dark and would end up as a sacrifice. He had followed the woman with the hopes of getting his boyfriend back from the dead though. 

The woman turned around sharply and in a second she was on Believer's face, staring at him with those weird yellow eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. 

"Devotee." she answered, and continued on her path, going in deeper and deeper into the little witch hut. Believer didn't move another inch. 

"You said you can bring him back. How." 

Devotee smiled, a wide grin that showed a row of perfectly white teeth. Such a flawless smile had to be an act of magic. 

"I've seen your pain, Believer. I can help you, trust me... I can help you."

"You didn't answer my question." he stated firmly. He wasn't in the mood to play games.

Devotee's expression changed in a flash, and now she was serious and unimpressed. 

"I'm no angel from heaven to go and bring your beloved back into your arms, you'll have to help me out if you want to see Mikey again."

"How do you even know his name?" Believer asked. He was really sure he hadn't told anyone about that, for people other than the Killjoys and him he was Kobra Kid. 

"I know everyone's name, Pete." she laughed. "For I can see, what other cannot see. I'm Abstinence, you see. Some call me Denial. Ignorance. Naïvety. But don't let the whispers scare you away. I blind your eyes so you cannot see the horrors in front of you, but I guide you through the easiest path. I don't let Blurryface get to you."

Believer was a little confused by the woman's speech. More than he was willing to admit. But there was something in the way she talked, the sound of her voice... 

"You're a witch." Believer muttered. 

"And?" she asked, her smile coming back to her face. She knew she was winning, she knew the grieving widow over here would surely give away. Believer sighed, eager to get out of there. 

"What do I have to do?"

That pleased Devotee, and still flashing that smile, she offered Believer a crumbled piece of paper. "Bring me everything on this list, and I shall give you what your heart desires." 

"Are you sure this will work?" Believer asked, and Devotee caressed his face with one bony finger. 

"Of course."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ghoul had the habit of always waking up with the sun. Like an early bird. So Gerard had the wisdom of returning home before the night came to an end. To raise no suspicion, he stored the paper bag where he knew Ghoul would never look. Below the floorboards of course. He had walked over that spot a million times and hadn't noticed the little dent on the floor. So he would have no idea. 

He crawled onto the mattress just to find Ghoul's tired and unimpressed eyes giving him a death glare. He looked so done. 

"Where were you?" he uttered, his voice full of worry. 

"Taking a walk." which wasn't exactly a lie. 

Ghoul rolled his eyes and shifted around, trying to fit his small body into Gerard's arms. "Everybody is taking walks, I'm starting to think walks are not good. No... No good walks..."

His eyes shut a second later, and Gerard knew Frank was exhausted, he brushed his tumb over Frank's bruised knuckles, and sighed deeply. 

"Aren't you going to scold me for bashing that kid's face?" He asked, his eyes still closed. 

"Yes, but I kind of forgot to." he explained. "It's not just about him, Frank. It's how you treated Jim too. And I'm starting to believe that guy with red eyes is not the same as the kid who's sleeping with his friend over there."

"I was protecting you. You didn't see what I saw, Gerard. It looked terrifying and I got scared, so I punched him. You can't blame me for that." Frank argued. "You know that I would have given everything to save you. That's what I always do."

That really bothered Gerard. That everyone treated him like he was so important. Both Mikey and Ray had told him the same thing, and he thought it was really unfair how they were willing to sacrifice themselves because he was the 'leader', when he would have done the same thing to save any of them. 

It weighted him to think that if Ray hadn't stopped him from going after Mikey, he would probably be dead too. But he was sure Ray and Frank could go on without him. The revolution could go on without him. If he walked into the desert and never came back, it would be all the same. 

"You've always been anti-avenging, I know." Frank whispered. "But if we find out who the mole is, we're going to kill him."

"I don't want any more blood on my hands, Frank."

"You think you're the worst, Party Poison. If you would just open your eyes you would see, that you're important. You're important to me, isn't that enough?"

Gerard kept silent and Frank didn't speak again. They both were too tired to keep arguing anyway. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phoenix was the first to wake up. Like a dedicated mom, he gathered breakfast for all of them and tended for Alpha, who was looking a little better, with more color on his face. Him being incharge of three big babies had become natural for everyone. And as a really good mom he was, Pete couldn't fool him into believing he had spent the entire night in bed. 

Believer just scoffed and rolled his eyes as the cranky teenager he was. Even if Alpha insisted that he was fine enough for them to move, Phoenix confirmed that their truck was indeed, busted. Not only did they puncture all four tires, but the truck wouldn't even start. When he had opened the hood, he saw that some cables were cut. He knew nothing about cars, but that was definitely a bad thing. 

So he let himself fall harshly onto the sand, pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. He made unhuman screetching sounds, and when he opened his eyes again, he felt like he was in another dimention of colors. He blinked a couple times and calmed himself. He couldn't afford to freak out, he needed to fix it. 

While Phoenix was out there, Believer was walking around with the crumbled paper still on his hand. And the list wasn't really a difficult task. Something that had been Mikey's, like the helmet that was carefully placed beside Believer's sleeping spot. Dirt from the grave, he could easily dig some, it was right there. It was the third item of the list that made it all seem so impossible. 

Blood. But not just any kind of blood. Believer would have slid a blade on his arm to get the blood. What was a little scratch when he could get Mikey back? Well it wasn't that simple. The blood needed to be related to the deceased for the whole thing to work. Which meant it had to be Party's. And he wasn't about to go ask the leader of the Killjoys to offer a vein. 

All while Believer was stuck in his dilema, Ghoul was trying to make mathematical calculations that would tell him exactly how much was the food going to last with _eight people_ depending on it. Not much. Then he thought about who would have to starve to death first. The answer being that Blurryface guy and his friend. 

And apparently they were a couple now, and spent the day looking at each other, hugging and kissing with no explanation, and Blurryface complementing Jim's newly dyed hair. That had to be Gerard's doings. Gerard. Where was that guy? 

He was in the storage room staring at his palm. He had four little pills in it, a painkiller, an antidepressant, a sedative and a BL/ind pill. To the reasonable Party, that would have seemed crazy. But to the Party that couldn't stand the nightmares, the lack of Mikey and Ray, and the pressure the world was putting on his shoulders, it seemed like a good idea. 

So he downed the pills dry, and winced when they got a little stuck in his throat. He waited a little bit, only to be hit with a wave of nausea and dizzyness. Oh, God. He felt like throwing up, but by breathing through his nose a couple times he managed to keep his stomach acids inside his body. But what came later was exactly what he wanted. Numbness.

So much of it he couldn't keep sitting upright. He fell over and lied on his back, staring at the ceiling. He didn't feel his body, at all. Only thing he could do was blink, and breathe in and out. His brain was in an innocent confusion at the sudden loss of control over his limbs. He didn't feel... Anything. At all. He barely heard the door opening and Ghoul's voice calling his name. 

"Gerard, what are you doing?" 

His brain, slow as a snail, still had some sense and thought about an excuse for Frank to believe. 

"I'm having an existencial crisis."

That wasn't exactly a lie. And Frank appeared to believe it. His vision started to blurry, his tongue started to dry and the sound of Frank's footsteps began to fade. Ghoul wrapped his arms around his waist and tried to get him to stand up, but his body was a dead weight and they almost fell over. 

"What you doing?" he managed to say. 

"I'm getting you _out_ of the existencial crisis closet." 

Man, Frank was a really good friend. Yeah, real good material on that small, tattooed body. And yeah, sometimes Gerard wanted to run his hands up and down that body. The little man had enough strength to carry his sorry ass to the mattress and lay him there. He didn't notice Gerard's full blown pupils, and his slurry speech didn't seem to raise any suspicion. 

"Tired. Need sleep." 

Then he went blind. He was sure he had his eyes open, but he couldn't see a thing. So he just assumed he was going to die. That the next thing to shut down was his heart. 

"I'm sorry Frank, it was an accident." he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure he was saying it in real life. "I didn't wanna leave... I didn't. Or did I...?"

But Party Poison didn't die. He just slipped into a nice coma, for a couple hours. Everyone thought he was just sleeping, when in reality his consciousness was buried deep, where no one could hear it. Not even Gerard himself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was at it's highest, and the heat made waves appear and blurry the surroundings. Phoenix had nothing against the sun. But it just made his life so much more difficult. Specially when he had to fix a truck. Made of burning hot metal. It was suffocating and maddening, but Phoenix had to get his guys out somehow. 

He had tapped the cables back together, and they were _supposed_ to make the engine work. But the vehicle wouldn't turn on, just make wheezing noises. He had made a run for the market to get some new tires, he had carried four big ass truck tires back, but that didn't matter if the truck _didn't start!_

He compared the engine's insides with the ones of the Trans AM, that was left intact of course, in one last desperate attempt to figure out what was wrong with his ride. The Killjoy's car was way different than their truck, and certainly not big enough for all of them. He saw no way out and the heat wasn't helping. 

The leather seats were hot, the whole car seemed to be hot enough for them to cook bacon on the hood, the sand was burning and his whole self was completely covered in sweat, making him feel uncomfortably sticky. He was delusional, and really dehydrated, but he refused to give up. 

And suddenly, two figures appeared to be getting closer. Phoenix recognized one as Inked Serpent, who had gone to meet Bachelor in hopes of getting emergency supplies. Instead, he came back with a beaten little boy, with messy brown hair. Fever. He rushed to see if they were okay, only to be hit with a wave of exhaustion and almost falling over, barely able to stand with his jelly-like legs. 

Serpent ended up having to carry Phoenix back into the diner, and carefully laid him down in the cool floor. Phoenix almost moaned at the sensation of cold tiles, and when he got some water into his system, he wiped his brow and went to aid Fever, who didn't look so bad. Just tired and somehow really sad. 

Phoenix took a damp cloth and started to clean the blood off the little cuts in Fever's face. He sighed and pursed his lips into a thin line, thinking about how Fever was bruised half of the time. He wished to see the boy's face without any shade of purple or yellow. 

Fever didn't have the courage to look at Phoenix, but he just assumed he was shaken up. 

"Seriously, Fever." Phoenix said, examining the guy's bruises. "How do you keep getting these?"

Fever didn't answer, but he gazed at the floor with a look of pain mixed with terror, the look of someone who is hiding something. And not telling because it might get him hurt.

"Is someone doing this to you?" he asked, concerned about the young rebel. He couldn't be getting into fights and walking out with just bruises. He would be dead if that was the case. But instead he looked like he was being abused. "Is Bachelor hitting you?" he insisted, and Fever just shook his head. 

"He has nothing to do with this." he whispered, and moved his eyes around in a frightened matter. Phoenix felt like he was lying, trying to protect him or something. 

"I know Bachelor has a temper." Phoenix pressed on. "Are you still living with him?"

Fever shook his head and bit his lip, looking away. Phoenix sat closer to him and kept his voice soft and comforting. 

"Why? Did you two have an argument?" he asked, rubbing Fever's arm. He nodded and curled up against Phoenix chest, who wrapped his arms around the boy. "That's okay. Couples have fights, it's normal in a relationship. But I'm sure he still loves you. Because you're pretty amazing."

Fever wanted to cry. Why did he have to be in such an unfair situation? After what Phoenix had done for him... When he was new in the desert, when he was pretty scared and lost, Phoenix had cared for him. He had taken him under his wing and trained him along with Brendon, and Ryan had felt like he had a place and a family. When he finally left the Youngblood's lair, turned into a rebel, Phoenix had smiled and said he was proud of him. 

He was the nicest person you could find in the desert. He didn't stop being kind to others despite the hard situations they were often in. Fever felt uncapable of hurting Phoenix. He didn't want to, he knew the Youngblood trusted him and knew _nothing_ about what was really going on.

Ghoul walked out of the kitchen holding a can of baked beans and a spoon in his mouth. When he saw Fever, he just looked so done with life Phoenix thought he was about to quit existance. 

"Another one?" he said, and just sighed, continuing on to go sit besides an asleep Party, muttering something about his place not being a freaking hotel for stray rebels of all Zones. Phoenix admitted the diner was getting a little bit cramped. And that he had the habit of bringing in rebels as if they were lost puppies. He just couldn't help it. 

Fever was starting to calm down in his arms, so he decided not to keep asking him questions. Instead he gave him his can of baked beans, which Fever couldn't accept and it led to an agreement of sharing half and half. Which ultimately made Fever feel even worst. 

With shaky hands, Fever asked Phoenix to follow him to the back of the diner, because he had to tell him something. Phoenix, believing he was going to open up and wanted some privacy, quickly complied. He followed the small boy out through the back door, and watched with a worried expression as Fever lifted his shirt a little bit to reveal his abdomen. 

It was plagued with dark purple bruises, he was visibly malnourished and some of his ribs were missing. That would explain the long gashes which still had stitches. It was like his ribs were so broken they had to take out the pieces. Phoenix just watched with a horrified look on his face.

"Who did this to you?" he breathed out, wanting desperately to help him. He couldn't let him go out there again, no way. He could keep Fever with him, like the old times. He could sleep in the truck and go for runs everyday to get him extra food. Yeah, he could do it. 

"This is why I do this. I can't let this happen again, or to someone I love." Fever whispered, and lowered his shirt, reaching for his back pocket. "I'm so sorry."

"What are you talking about-" he started asking, furrowing his eyebrows, when suddenly Fever jumped towards him, wrapped one of his arms around his neck in a tight grip and pressed a cloth damped with chloroform over Phoenix's nose and mouth. The short blond widened his eyes in shock, and tried to fight his way out, but he _still_ didn't want to punch Fever even more. 

He tried to escape the boy's grip but the fumes blurried his mind, in addition to how exhausted he was. He fell to the floor, completely unconscious and helpless. Fever acted quickly and dragged Phoenix to a little white car Korse had let him take. He tied his wrists together and did the same with his ankles, laying him down in the backseat and closing the door. 

He then jumped into the driver's seat and started the engine, flinching at the loud roar it made. He slowly drove away in a straight line, the car bouncing up and down on the irregular terrain. When he was sure no one at the diner could see the car, he made a drastic turn for the road and drove as fast as he could. Ryan blinked away the tears forming in his eyes and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He knew Korse wasn't going to kill Phoenix, it would be too much effort wasted. If he was planning to kill the Youngbloods, he would have sent another wave of dracs knowing they were weak. 

The first wave wasn't meant to kill, just to send a message, weaken the rebels and test Blurryface in action. He had heard a little bit of the transmitions Korse had with this Blurryface, and it was all a very complicated strategy that Fever wasn't aware of. Something about the leader of the Killjoys and separating someone called 'Tyler' from someone called 'Josh'. 

Apparently, this new agent was suppose to be very effective, but his ways were quite peculiar. And that someone named 'Josh' had become a problem to him. It was all very confusing. And that didn't make Korse happy. It made him more violent. 

Maybe he did want to kill the Youngblood, just for the mere satisfaction of doing it himself. Maybe he would send Ryan out for the others and kill them one by one. He shook his head to keep those thoughts away. He still hadn't hear anything from Brendon. And that was slowly killing him. Maybe he really didn't love him at all. 

And that was good, somehow. He didn't want Brendon involved, and if that meant never seeing him again... 

There were too many things. When he got to the base and parked the car, Korse was already there, smiling. Fever felt sick to his stomach when Korse congratulated him for such a good job, saying stuff like 'you can really do things right if I push the right buttons.'

He had to watch Phoenix, the man who had cared for him when no one else would, being dragged through the floor and thrown in a cell like some animal. He was still out, his blond hair falling on his face, his wrists and ankles starting to bruise because of the tightness of the ropes. He had done the task, and he was getting rewarded for it. 

A bed, an actual meal, a shower. Hundreds of carbons. He would sleep comfortably that night all at the expense of a man, who had done nothing wrong. Fever didn't stay to see Phoenix wake up. He didn't want to see the fear in his eyes when he realized he was in a cell. 

At least, there was no torture for Ryan that night. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Believer couldn't believe what he had done. Sneaked out to the market to get some needles, and trying to come up with a plan on his way back. He could knock him out, but the repercutions would be terrible not only for him but for the entire group. If he as much as laid a finger on Party, Ghoul would lose his shit, accuse him of being a traitor or something. 

So he had to draw some blood without Party noticing. Which sounded really fucking hard. But the universe was, for once, on his side. Searching for Party, he had found him lying on the floor of the little storage closet, after watching him stumble down. He had his eyes opened, but didn't hear or see him at all. 

Believer assumed he was just passed out of exhaustion, with his eyes opened. So he saw the opportunity and took it. Party didn't even flinch when the needle pierced his skin, and when Believer got what he needed, he walked out and told Ghoul his friend was having some trouble. 

With all the items and a tingly feeling in his gut, he went back to the little witch hut. He knocked on the door with his free hand and it just opened. "Come in." a soft voice said, and Believer felt Devotee's slim arms wrap around him. 

"I got everything, now help me out." Believer demanded. 

"Patience is a virtue, Pete Wentz." Devotee whispered, taking Mikey's helmet, the bag full of dirt and the needle full of blood. "And this must be done carefully, since it affects the balance of life and death."

Pete didn't give a shit about balance. He wanted Mikey back. 

Devotee worked with the items Believer had given her, chanting stuff in a very weird lenguage and moving her hands aroung in the air, creating purple smoke that filled the room in a matter of seconds. Pete tried to not breathe it in, but when he had to, it didn't feel uncomfortable at all. It felt like some light air caressing the inside of his lungs. It was weirdly intoxicating. After a while of being in a high with the purple smoke, Devotee arched her back into an unnatural bow and her eyes went completely blank. 

That's when Pete started freaking out. A bright white light blinded him for a couple seconds, and when he finally was able to see, he couldn't believe his eyes. It had worked. Whatever black magic ritual Devotee did had worked. Mikey was there, in the middle of a circle made of the grave dirt. Except, it wasn't exactly him. 

His skin was incredibly pale, his eyes were rimmed with a sick red and his lips were chapped. His hair was full of dirt and his clothes were worn out. He was also thinner than before, his cheekbones even sharper and the sockets of his skull were a little visible, his eyes hollowed. He looked... _dead_. 

He also looked really confused and terrified, twitching around and moving his eyes across the room. He didn't seem to know Believer or anyone was there. But it was him, it was _Mikey_. He wanted to run towards him and pull him into a bone crushing hug, but Devotee stopped him before he could move. 

"He's desorientated, not very aware of his surroundings." she spoke with a soft, melodic voice. "He will not recognize you just yet. Right now he's not fully Mikey. For him it's like being born again, and he's getting used to the feeling of his body. So, you must do one more thing for him. Go and look for something he can eat."

That sounded logical. He assumed coming back from the death felt really weird and desorientating, and it must made you hungry. 

"But not fruits of the earth, that won't work." Devotee warned him. "It has to be something with flesh, and it has to be _alive_."

"How am I suppose to do that?!" Believer exclaimed. "Bring him a burger or something?!"

"I remind you the meat has to be alive..."

"Oh, so I gotta bring the whole cow."

"Unless you have a cow to spare, I recommed a small rodent or a bird."

This girl was crazy. A small rodent or a bird?! She had to be kidding. But Believer was far too deep into this to give up now. So he walked to the market, grumbling to himself but also thanking the complex trading system the rebels had going on. And of course, there was a stand selling meat, with a cage full of guinea pigs. Probably snatched from the City's kids. Which was just sick. 

But he bought one, saying he wanted it to be 'fresh'. He held the small animal in his hands and made his way back to the witch hut, with zero carbons in his pocket and a guinea pig in his hands. He actually felt a little bad for the faith the little fur ball was about to meet. 

Devotee looked extremely pleased, and offered Mikey the little animal. He crawled towards it, like a man in the desert looking at an oasis, and then snatched it out of Devotee's delicate hands harshly, making the guinea pig squeel in pain. Pete had to watch how his loved one buried his teeth into the small body and teared the poor thing apart, getting blood everywhere. 

Devotee watched the whole scene undisturbed, and in the end Mikey's eyes lit up with new found life as blood ran down his chin.  Devotee made a gesture towards Mikey, who was now sitting on the floor looking around. "He's all yours." she said, and with one swift movement she was out of the house. 

"...Mikey?" Pete murmured, still a little afraid of the person in front of him. He looked up to him and his eyes were filled with hope. 

"Pete." he whispered back, and tried to get up, failing and only extending his arms towards him. "Pete, Pete. It's me, it's Mikey. Pete, is that you?"

He broke down in tears, hearing his voice once again, calling his name. Mikey fell over, as if his legs didn't work, but he was soon caught by Pete, who had rushed to his side and was already hugging him. 

"Mikey, baby..." he sobbed, caressing his hair and feeling his entire face with his hands. "It's you, it's really you..."

"What happened?" Mikey asked. "What? - where did this blood come from?"

"You ate a guinea pig." Pete said, laughing a little. 

"I what?!" Mikey exclaimed, looking hilariously horrified. Pete helped him get clean as much as he could before peppering him with kisses. 

"I thought I would never see you again." he whispered, their foreheads touching. "I thought you were completely gone. I thought you had left me..."

"I never really left you, Pete." Mikey answered sweetly. "I was always by your side hoping you'd feel me. I heard you that night, all you said. I tried to make you know I was there..."

Pete hugged him even tighter, and they didn't let go of each other for a very long time. 

"Yes, I'll marry you, Pete Wentz." Mikey murmured before kissing his lips lovely. Pete smiled into the kiss and whispered against their mouths:

"That's all I ever wanted to hear, Mikeyway."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phoenix woke up slowly, with his head still fuzzy. His limbs had gone numb for lying on one side for who knows how long. The first thing he remembered was seeing Fever's injuries and feeling the urgue to help him. Then the memory of the 'I'm so sorry' and the fumes that made him pass out. 

So whatever was happening, it wasn't something good. He looked around to see he was in a dark cell, the walls were plain grey and the bars were made of steel. The only light was coming from the outside lamp in the hallway, where some dracs walked side by side regularly. So he must be in a BL/ind base, in prison, exactly. 

He didn't want to think about _how_ he got there. He shoved those feelings carefully aside, he could deal with that later. Right now he needed to concentrate on finding a way out. At first he thought all his guys and the Killjoys were there too, but upon calling and screaming he concluded he was alone. 

Which didn't exactly comfort him, but he did think it was better to be the only one in danger. He patted all the walls and the bars, not sure of what to do. His wrists had purple marks and his feet felt a little numb too. Suddenly, Korse himself made his way into the cell, and Phoenix just stepped back in shock. 

He had heard about Korse, everyone had, but having him standing right there with his menacing eyes was a whole other thing. He was tall as hell, and it didn't help that Phoenix was so small. His skin was grey and his hands were wrinkled. He wore a disgusting smile on his face. 

"American Phoenix." he started saying. "Leader of the Youngbloods. One of the important pieces in this game. Pleasure to have you here."

Phoenix didn't answer. He didn't want to talk with that guy, who was blocking the entire door with his body. 

"I have Blurryface eating off my hand, and now I have you. Only thing missing is Party Poison and Nicotined Bachelor. And then I'll have all the rebels in my palm."

"What do you want?" Phoenix asked, clenching his fists. He was getting tired and nervous with Korse's speech of greatness. 

"Straight to the point? Very well." Korse said, speaking more to himself than to Phoenix. "If I wanted to kill you I would have done so long ago. I wouldn't have waited for you to wake up. So let me tell you something, American Phoenix. You are a beacon. And if you prove to be useful to me, I _might_ not kill you just yet."

As if he was going to colaborate.

"You will make a distress call, and all your guys will come here like moths to the light. And then, I promise to give you a quick death. Do we have a deal?"

Before Phoenix could answer, a bunch of dracs dragged him out of the cell and into a big room, which only had a platform in the center. Korse then offered him a radio, and smiled. 

"Don't make me hurt you."

The dracs handcuffed him and forced him to his knees. He just looked up at Korse with his teeth clenched and a strand of blond hair falling on his eyes. Korse just slapped him with the back of his hand, and Phoenix had to spit the blood that filled his mouth. He still looked at him fiercely, with a bloodied lip and panting slightly. 

"Fuck you." he hissed, and that only earned him a kick to the gut that made him fall over. 

And it continued like that, Korse kicking him while he was down and demanding he made the call over and over again, but Phoenix didn't crack at all. _he's a tough one_ , Korse thought to himself. No matter how much pain he was in, Phoenix wasn't going to call and make all his guys be killed there. He rather die. 

"You're just making it more difficult for yourself." Korse said, whistling and watching as someone came into the room. 

It was Fever. He was looking at the floor and holding a thick butcher knife. Phoenix's breathing hitched and his expression changed from challenging rebel to betrayed friend. And that seemed to please Korse. He gave the order and some dracs got the handcuffs off him but still held him down, and placed his left arm on the platform. 

"If you don't make the call, we'll do it our way. Isn't that right, Ryan?" Korse said, smiling at the shocked expression on Phoenix's face. Ryan stepped closer and his grip tightened around the handle of the knife. 

"Ryan." Phoenix pleaded, shaking his head. "You don't want to do this, I know you don't. Please, listen to me."

"You don't know me, Phoenix." Ryan said in a low voice. 

"I do, I really do. I was there for you, Ryan. Please, tell me this is just some sick misunderstanding. Look me in the eye, and say that everything you told me was a lie."

Ryan finally looked up at him, and he felt a sharp pain in his chest seeing those kind, blue-green eyes looking at him, _hoping_ he was wrong about him. That Ryan hadn't really been working for BL/ind the whole time. The pain and betrayal were so visible in those beautiful eyes... 

"I'm so sorry." he said once again, and swinged the knife over his head. A single tear rolled down Phoenix's cheek before the blade cut through his skin and bone, and chopped his hand off. He screamed at the top of his lungs and held his arm close to his chest, the blood getting everywhere. 

The pain was so intense he thought he was going to pass out, but unfortunately for him he was wide awake when Ryan got close and poured alcohol over the open wound, which knocked the air out of him and it felt like his arm was on fire. Finally, Ryan rolled a ton of bandages around his wrist, and left. 

Before he got too far, Phoenix managed to kick him and make him fall to the floor harshly. When Ryan looked at him, his eyes were full of pain and anger. Phoenix rolled his head and breathed heavily, holding his stump with his remaining hand. He was way too tired to fight the dracs that dragged him back to his cell. 

And there, lying on his back all beaten up and with one hand less, he cried. He let the feelings he had supressed come over him. He cried out of anger, frustration, worry, sadness and pain. Finally, his body decided to give him a break, and he passed out. 

"Don't you worry, little Phoenix." Korse whispered, holding his severed hand. "It will all be over soon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> After that little teaser Chap 7 was, here's the continuation. 
> 
> I hope you're all having a nice week, and if not, don't worry, it's almost over.
> 
> ;) <3


	9. I Can't Be Forgiven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghoul decides to confront his leader about what's happening to him, the Youngbloods keep trying to be strong without their leader and with some new knowledge comes trouble.

Korse was wrapping Phoenix's severed hand as a gift, and enjoying it a little too much. He had wrapped a box with the little present with bright silver wrapping, and was currently placing a metalic blue bow on top. He smiled to himself, picturing the look of horror and fear in whoever opened the gift. And it gave him a weird satisfaction. 

He would have delivered it himself, but that was too much of a risk. He could send Fever back to the Killjoy's lair, make him say a terrible and tragic story about how some spies had taken Phoenix and that no matter how hard he tried, they got away and only left a gift. Everybody seemed to believe Ryan's lies. 

But after how hard it had been to get him to actually kidnap Phoenix, Korse doubted he wouldn't betray him and blow their whole cover. Then again, he had chopped Phoenix's hand without much hesitation. So he decided to trust his little spy once again. 

And because of a divine miracle, Ryan actually _listened_ to him. He gave him orders as he did everytime, and there was no kicking, screaming, struggling or crying. There was absolutely no need of threatening Bachelor or... Anything. Just a little 'yes, sir'. That made him feel... Proud. Proud of himself, that he had finally managed to break Ryan and turn him into an emotioness, effective agent. 

He handed Ryan the gift and ruffled his hair, the boy barely flinched at his touch. 

He squeezed the package in his hands and it suddenly felt heavier than it actually was. I mean, how heavy can a human hand be? He looked towards the cell to see that Phoenix was still out. He was curled up on his side, blood dripping into the concrete floor, his bandages starting to turn red. 

Ryan knew he wasn't going to survive. None of them were. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Believer forgot about everything. About the danger they were in, about Alpha, about Phoenix. For him, the world outside Mikey's arms didn't matter. Didn't exist. And he would have stayed there, if Mikey hadn't called it out. That they couldn't just stay in a witch hut forever, that they needed to go back to the diner. He said he wanted to see Ghoul, and Party. 

And Pete understood that. He wasn't the only one who wanted Mikey back, but he had been selfish. That's when problems started to appear, Pete knew it was too good to be true. As soon as Mikey stepped out the door, he flinched and hissed, falling on his back. 

Pete rushed to his side and what he saw made him go as pale as Mikey. He had only taken a step out, and half his face was burned, as if they had splash him with acid. His whole arm and his hand were burned too, the pale skin turned red and a black. Mikey stared at himself and they both fell silent for a while. 

"Am I a vampire?" Mikey asked, looking up at Pete with worried eyes. He was completely serious. 

Sure, Pete had doubted Mikey would be the same, but a _vampire_? The only safe place for him during the day was the little witch hut... And what if he needed to... Eat? Would he need to go and buy more guinea pigs and feed them to him as some wild animal? It all felt really surreal, like it wasn't actually happening. 

"Go." Mikey said, hugging his legs close to his chest. "You can't stay here all day, the others will be worried."

"But..." he started to argue, but Mikey cut him off. 

"I won't go anywhere. And, supposing I can go out at night, you can come back and take me to the diner."

Pete gave him one last kiss, and Mikey watched him become smaller and smaller, the sand rising up and swirling with the wind. It felt weird to be dead. He thought he would go to heaven or something after everything became black and he stopped feeling his body. But he didn't go further. 

It was like being totally invisible. He saw himself lying on the floor with his throat slit. But he didn't feel anything. Not the sun, or his wounds, or the blood. Nothing. He couldn't hear anything either. It was like watching a muted movie. He didn't know what to do, where to go... 

He saw Ray arriving with the motorcycle. Kneeling beside him, visibly holding back the tears. 

"I'm sorry. I'm too late."

He saw him fighting with the dracs that appeared seconds later. He realized his whole death had been a trap. He had to watch Ray get shot in the chest and dragged away, unable to do something about it. 

He watched Frank and Gerard arrive in the Trans AM. He saw Gerard crying, he saw Frank's pain. He saw everything. He wanted so desperately to make himself visible, to show them _somehow_ that he was there. He had wrapped his arms around his brother as he cried, he had held Frank as he struggled to be strong... 

Maybe that's why he couldn't move on. He felt the need to watch over Gerard, over Frank. Over Pete. That's why he was stuck on earth. 

Now, being brought back to life was as horrible as it gets. It was like something with claws was dragging him and the feeling of having a body completely threw him off. What he didn't want to tell Believer was that he rather stay dead. 

It was just a lot more peaceful than being alive. The truth is, Mikey was tired. Tired of running around, killing people. He craved a normal existence, besides Pete. He thought about what would have happened if he hadn't left Battery City with Gerard. He wouldn't have met Pete. And even if he had, those kind of relationships were strongly forbidden. Just because they couldn't have children. Therefore, they were not useful. 

It wasn't weird that men and women escaped the City to be with who they wanted. 

And now he was some kind of monster who was burned by the sun. He still questioned himself, if Pete had done the right thing... 

What he didn't want to say, was that he wanted to stand under the sun and just... Disappear. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frank was worried sick. It wasn't _normal_ that Gerard fell asleep everyday, at the same hour. And it was like he fell into a coma, nothing would wake him up. He had to shove his worries aside, since he was in some kind of reunion. He didn't want to be there, the meetings and strategy was Party's thing. 

Party seemed a little off. His eyes were unfocused and he had started to lose weight really quickly. He looked awful, and Ghoul wasn't the only one noticing it. 

If Phoenix was there, he would have gotten the truth out of Gerard with his soft voice and beautiful comforting smile, as the mom he was. Which raised the question. 

Where the hell was Phoenix? 

He was taking care of Fever just yesterday, and now they were both gone. Like they had disappeared out of thin air. But right now, Blurryface was talking about his little personality problem and that was something Frank wanted to hear. As long as it gave him some answers about what had happened to Gerard. Because he was sure Gerard's emaciated state had something to do with the black stuff he had seen crawling through his veins. 

"Is he listening right now?" Alpha Dog asked, who was getting stronger with Serpent's care. 

He flinched visibly and Jim squeezed him to comfort him. Blurryface just nodded, and Ghoul saw a little red sparkle in the guy's eyes. That, was genuinely scary. Ghoul suddenly felt bad for treating him like shit, when the thought of having someone evil inside you was terrifying. 

"So... BL/ind wants him on their lines, do you know exactly what he can do?" Ghoul asked, wanting some answers. 

"I know he's unhumanly fast and strong. And apparently, he can crawl into people's brain. But that only happened once and all I can do is suppose..."

"Then suppose." Ghoul exclaimed harshly, which earned him a warning look from Gerard. Blurryface bit his lip and was visibly uncomfortable. 

"I guess it must make you feel as if you had him inside. Kind of like... How I feel? Heavy, like all the energy is drained out, empty and kind of souless. Depressed, or anxious. Maybe both. It's hard to sleep, it's hard to wake up. Food is tasteless. Smiling is hard, too. You wish you'd just disappear and well, it gets hard to breathe and just... Be alive."

Gerard listened to him with a serious expression. His fingers were intertwined on his lap, like everytime he was making plans on his head. Ghoul wondered if he was mentally placing checkmarks on Blurryface's statements.

"There's also Phoenix and Fever." Serpent said, worried about his leader and friend. "Do you think he has something to do with that?"

Blurryface shook his head, and Serpent's worried expression didn't change at all. Alpha rubbed his leg, comforting him slightly.

"I'm sure he's fine." he said. "It's Phoenix, he's a tough cookie. Besides, he's with Fever. They can protect each other wherever they are."

"It's not like him." Alpha said, looking at everyone. "Phoenix would have said something, _anything_. He wouldn't have left just like that."

"So... You're saying someone kidnapped him?" Ghoul suggested, and instantly knew that was exactly what the Youngbloods were thinking. 

"It isn't so unlikely, BL/ind knows about this place anyway. It would be a good move to change location..." Party started saying, moving his hands and Ghoul could almost see the gears turning in his head. 

"Truck's still busted. We can't fit all in your car. And even so, we're not moving. What if Phoenix and Fever come back?" Alpha remarked. 

"They won't." a voice said from the door. They all looked up to see Believer. Ghoul wanted to yell at the guy, he had been disappearing and going around a lot, and they definitely did not need everyone to be so disperse so they could be killed. 

But right now he looked awful, his face was contorted with sorrow and there were clear tear tracks in his dirty cheeks. 

And he was holding a little box, wrapped in silvery paper topped with a blue ribbon. The bottom was damped with a crimson liquid, and Ghoul instantly felt sick. Believer tilted the box ever so slightly, just to reveal a gruesome trophy. 

Alpha and Serpent both covered their months and looked like they were about to throw up. Believer didn't look so good either. Just like that, the Youngbloods all felt a stinging pain in their chest, they took a hard blow and right now they seemed lost. Like they were left without a guide, in the dark, alone, and afraid. 

The feeling Ghoul would have if Party died. Party, who had been completely devastated by the loss of his comrades, now had to be the one, experienced Killjoy keeping his head cold and trying to solve this. Because he _knew_ it wasn't a lost cause. 

"Where did you find this?" he asked, and a very shocked Believer answered:

"Out there, on the front door."

Party ignored the package and knelt in front of the three scared Youngbloods. Like a mature adult comforting a wheeping child, he kept his voice low and reasonable. 

"Phoenix's still alive." he stated firmly. "Because if he was dead, they wouldn't have bother to send us this. If anything, they would have send his head. This, was meant to scare you, to show off their power. And that's exactly what it's doing. Do not let them. Think, what would Phoenix like you to do?"

"Stay safe." Alpha said, looking at the floor. 

"Don't go after him." Believer added. 

"Exactly. Because this? This is definitely a trap, a bait, so you go running in and they can kill you easily."

"But... We're nothing without him." Serpent said, and his partners nodded sadly. 

"Maybe. But _he_ is nothing without you either. You see, a group is like a body. The leader is the head, and the others are the limbs. You keep the body running, while the head makes the desicions, right? The difference is that if the head's cut off, we don't die. The systems manages to get a new head, that second-in-charge is now responsable. In my case, if I had died, Kobra would have been the new head. I'm sure Phoenix talked to you about this."

"Me." Alpha Dog whispered. "He said I would take over if he..."

"But now think about a head, and no limbs. What is it worth? _nothing_. You play a primordial role. You are, most of the time, irreplaceable. And your head _is still alive_. So don't risk it, don't even make the scenario of your head, your leader being on his own a possibility."

After that everyone fell silent. Maybe that wasn't what they wanted to hear, but it was what they needed. The Youngbloods curled up all together, giving each other strength. There was a silent 'wait out' order, so with the tension a little bit lower Ghoul decided it was the right time to confront Gerard. He made him follow him into the attic, where no one could listen. 

Gerard just stood there, looking tired and with a 'want to get this over with' kind of vibe. So Frank went straight to the point. 

"What's going on, Gee?" he asked, not bothering to cover up his concern. "You haven't  been yourself this days."

"Can you blame me?" he asked, running his hands through his hair. "With all that's been happening?"

"But... It's just not natural, Gee, look at you. You look horrible."

"Thanks." he replied sarcastically. "And I'm so sorry I'm not strong like you, Frank."

Frank sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, looking up at Gerard. 

"Are you doing drugs?" he asked, and waited for his friend's reply. 

No. It was impossible. Gerard's little secret was like the perfect crime. There was absolutely no way Frank had found out. 

"What makes you think that?" Gerard asked back, maybe like that he could get some clues as to how Frank had come to that conclusion. 

"There's a prick, in the inside of your arm." Frank said, and Gerard looked down just to see he was right. There was a red dot right over his vein. When did that happen? _how_ did that happen? 

"I don't know what this is." he said, and he didn't expect to be telling the truth in that conversation. "But Frank, I'm not doing drugs. You know I'm terrified of needles, of course I'm not pumping chemicals into my bloodstream."

"...if it's not that then what is it?" he asked again. "Do you feel like everything Blurryface said? Can you relate to that?"

"And what if I do?" Gerard tempted him, and as expected, Frank exploted. 

"Goddammit Gerard, I'm just trying to help you!" he yelled. "We are supposed to be there for each other, you're the only one I have left and I feel like I'm slowly losing you to a fucking... Invisible killer that might as well be yourself. Have you even _considered_ what I feel? I've been there, Gerard. I've given you space, I give you comfort at night, I let you cry on my shoulder but _think_ about how I feel!! How do you think it feels to see you slowly deteriorate and slip through my fingers?! It's no fucking fun!! Mikey's not here to be the head and Ray's not here to console me. So could you please have one fucking grain of consideration and tell me what the fuck is wrong with you!?"

"You wanna know what the fuck is wrong with me, Frank?" Gerard exclaimed, his voice rising. "You people expect me to be something I'm not and then act surprised when I break down! I'm sorry to disappoint you Frank but I'm not the strong leader you want me to be!!"

"Gerard..." Frank started saying. 

"I'm overwhelmed. I want to feel numb and that's why I sleep, Frank. I pretend I'm not falling apart in front of you but in reality I'm struggling, Frank. And yeah, sometimes I wish I wasn't so stupidly afraid of needles so I can inject myself with chemicals that completely annihilate my brain cells so I can have an _excuse_ to quit being Party Poison because being him it's really fucking hard, and I'm sorry my pain and sorrow caused you trouble, Frank, very truly sorry!"

After they both had gotten that out of their chests, they started breathing normally and the anger left both of them. Frank was the first to speak, this time calm and slow. 

"It's not your fault, you know? To feel like that." 

"I'm sorry I haven't thought about how you feel. I'm sorry I only thought about myself." Gerard then said. 

Frank murmured a little 'fuck it' and closed the space between them, pulling Gerard into a tight hug. And they stayed there, rocking slightly back and forth. Gerard buried his face on Frank's hair, and mumbled:

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Frank answered, his face buried in Gerard's chest. "I just don't want to lose you, you don't know how much you mean to me."

"Actually, I do." Gerard whispered, and chuckled when Frank blushed like a school girl. "You couldn't be more obvious, Iero."

"Dammit, Phoenix told me you didn't have a clue!" Frank exclaimed, sounding really upset. "I was trying to find a _Way_ to tell you but..."

That made Gerard laugh, and it felt so weird and rusty in his throat...

"I've always known. I was just waiting for you to tell me. Until I couldn't take it anymore." 

Gerard cupped Frank's cheeks with his hands, and after a moment of intense staring, Frank stood on his tiptoes to gently place a kiss on Gerard's lips. They closed their eyes and melted into each other's touch, feeling the sweetness of Frank's lips definitely fixed something inside Gerard's chest. 

Frank suddenly slipped his tongue into Gerard's mouth, which made him moan in surprise. Things quickly escalated and what was once sweet and tender was now heated and passionate, tongues dancing together and just never getting tired of the feeling. 

They separated with a loud 'pop', that made both of them giggle. Gerard was smiling, something he hadn't done in a while. 

"What does this mean?" Frank asked, looking totally clueless. "Are we like, boyfriends or something?"

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Gerard asked, placing soft butterfly kisses on Frank's neck. 

"Mmm I dunno." he hummed, smiling. "Mikey and Believer were boyfriends, Jim and Blurryface are boyfriends. We? We are something... Different?"

"Lovers, perhaps?" Gerard suggested, his breath making Frank's skin tingle. 

"Yeah... That sounds nicer, doesn't it?" he said, barely able to keep his hands from doing very inappropriate things. 

"Well, what are the terms and conditions?" Gerard asked with a smug grin. 

"You have to cope with my Way puns." Frank immediately said. "The rest? You'll get to know them, along the _Way_ "

"My God, they're so bad." Gerard laughed. "But okay. My terms and conditions include you being hugged, kissed and dragged around as if you were a teddy bear."

He then proceeded to wrap his arms around Frank's waist and lift him off his feet, cuddling him close while whispering:

"You're so cute and tiny!"

"I'm not cute!" Frank said with a really adorable grumpy voice. "I'm manly as hell!"

"Yes you are, Frankie, yes you are." Gerard chanted like a child, and bounced around with Frank still in his arms. The little pet name made Frank soften and throw his manliness out the window. 

"What took you so long?" Gerard asked, finally putting him down. "You didn't think I liked boys?"

"Yeah, I didn't think you were Gerard _Gay_ " Frank said and Gerard rolled his eyes sarcastically. "I... I was scared, okay?" 

That ended up in more hugging and Gerard making squeeling noises at how cute Frank was. Even if he didn't admit it. Being there with Frank, knowing he accepted him, not as Party Poison but as Gerard Way, made him feel like he could breathe again. 

Maybe, just maybe, things were starting to get, at least, a little better. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The three remaining Youngbloods, were all curled up under a tent of blankets. If felt like something was missing, that something being Phoenix's protective hug, as he tried to wrap his short arms around the three of them. Saying they were worried was an understatement, and they didn't know what was worst: the possibility of him being dead, or of him being tortured. 

Still, they had full confidence that Phoenix would not betray them. And even if he did open his mouth, they wouldn't blame them. Sometimes we all make whatever it takes to make the pain stop. Suddenly, everyone in the diner perked up at the sound of static on the radio, which meant there was going to be a report of some sort. 

"To anyone looking for a lost fiery bird, here's a message for you." Doctor D's voice sounded a little annoyed and tired, probably from having to transmit so late. 

Serpent was the first to run up to the radio, and was closely followed by Alpha and Believer. Blurryface and Jim still listened carefully, wanting to know more about the person who had helped them out. Party looked determined and Ghoul just played with his hands. 

"Hi? Hi guys..." a shaky voice came out of the speaker, and both Alpha and Serpent let out a huge breath they were holding. Believer just smiled. It was him, somehow. 

"You see, I stole this radio thing from one of the dracs here. I just wanted to say that... You don't need to worry about me, I'm still alive at least. But... Things are not looking good, you may already know. I'm currently stuck in a BL/ind cell in the middle of nowhere. And... Do _not_ even try to come here, there are way too many enemies for you to take down. Please..." his voice started to break, and that wiped the smile off Believer's face. "Stay safe, that's all I ask of you. I guess this... Is the end? I will fight as much as I can, I promise. But this might me the last time you hear from me."

After that Phoenix sounded like he was crying silently, soft sobs coming through he radio. 

"It pains me to think that I might die without seeing you guys again. But I beg of you, leave me. Safe yourself and leave me behind. I would _never_ forgive myself if something happened to any of you, because of me. And please, listen carefully. _Do not trust Fever_. The boy's dangerous and I believe he has been working for BL/ind this whole time. No matter what we did for him in the past, he's not on our side anymore, please, be careful. So... Yeah... This is my bitter goodbye. I'm sorry if I didn't give the best of me for any of you, I'm sorry if I ever disappointed you or wasn't the leader you wanted me to be. I'm sorry if I wasn't the leader you deserved... To say the least I forgive you, all, for everything you apologized for, yes, I forgive you. And... I love you guys. I love you, Alpha. I know you will be a great leader... If something happens to me. Take care of my boys, will you? I know you can. I'm so proud of you, Alpha. I love you."

Alpha was bitting his fist but that didn't hold back the tears that streamed down his face.

"Serpent? Thank you, so much for being there for me when I needed it. You are... Amazing, and I am proud of you as much as a mother can be. I know you'll continue to be the kind and supporting man behind all those tattoos. I love you, very much. And Believer, my frantic, stubborn Believer. I don't regret anything I did to mend every piece of you. I would do it all again. I'm really proud of how strong you've become. I love you. I love you all, and thank you. For everything. This is American Phoenix, Leader of the Youngbloods. Signing off."

And then, the transmission was over. And it would be the last one. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bachelor hadn't been active in a while. He was struggling with his feelings and often feeling a little off. Unfortunately, 'sad' is not an excuse when you do what Bachelor does. 'Sad' isn't going to feed the rebels. Bachelor took his job very seriously. 'Feed the revolution.' as he called it. 

He managed to work alone, faster, better. He felt lonely, yes, but missing Ryan didn't do him any good. He still had to look groups in the eye and shake his head, dumping over them the fact that they will have to starve another week. And that was enough emotional charge for him. 

But he did miss Ryan. He wanted to sleep with him between his arms. But Ryan had said he wasn't coming back, and Brendon really thought he was serious. But Brendon did love him but even if he did, how was he supposed to find him? He had swept many Zones in his frantic search for his lost lover, until he stumbbled upon an old diner... 

Except he recognized the painted car and the red truck. So he knew this wasn't just some abandoned diner. Both Killjoys and Youngbloods were staying there, so it was not a place you could bargue in without getting shot. Even if Bachelor was on their side, rebels were always at maximun alert. 

So he silently went up to the door and knocked. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All of them had listened to Phoenix's report, and that only added to the pressure Party was feeling. And yes, even if being with Frank made him feel better, he still took the pills everyday. The minutes before going down completely, Frank would envelop him with his arms and cuddle him close to his chest. Gerard really appreciated that, that even if he knew taking the drugs was bad, Frank was there with him. But he knew the secrets were slowly killing Frank. 

It was hard, to see your lover fall into a coma for a while and have no idea why. Frank didn't move until Gerard was fully awake, mainly because he was afraid Gerard wasn't going to wake up that time. Throughout the whole time Gerard was out, Frank would constantly check if he was still breathing. 

But after the report, Gerard craved the numbness of the pills even more. He was grateful Phoenix had warned them about the mole, but that only added _anger_ into the mix of feelings swirling in Gerard's chest. If Fever was working with BL/ind, Party was sure he had something to do with that _extremely_ big exterminator unit, patroling the roads _at the exact same time_ his brother was coming home. 

He knew that couldn't be a mere coincidence. So he wanted to take Fever and bash his head against the table's corner. And do many more things to that boy that he wasn't proud of. Because yes, he liked to think he wasn't a murderer. That he only killed when it was necessary. Party didn't _do_ torture, didn't inflict pain for revenge. 

But this was different. If he could lay his hands on him... 

And his little fantasy came true, when Believer - who hadn't stopped roaming in and out - returned to the diner with a very beaten Fever, who he threw to the floor harshly. It was obvious that Believer had taken his anger out on the kid already. Both Alpha and Serpent stood up and stared at Fever, but didn't do anything else. They were the only ones keeping their cool along with Blurryface and Jim. 

Ghoul - being the short-tempered man he was -  threw a full punch straight to Fever's face, and had a weird satisfaction when he felt bone crushing under his knuckles. When Fever fell to the floor once again, blood started flowing freely onto the tiles and they all knew Ghoul had broken his nose. He then grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him up against a wall, Fever's feet not touching the ground. 

For a short guy, Ghoul was _strong_. 

"Because of you, Kobra's dead." he snapped, slamming him, Fever's head colliding painfully with the wall. 

"Because of you, Jet's dead." Ghoul hissed, slamming him once again. 

"Because of you, Phoenix is out there alone waiting to die!" he yelled, and threw him away from him. Fever made an effort to stand up, coughing blood and blinking rapidly, but stopped, being on his knees when he saw Party's raygun pointed directly at him. 

He raised his hands in front of him and looked up at Party, with big brown eyes pleading for mercy. Pleading him not to pull the trigger, not to hurt him any further. Ryan knew he deserved to be beaten up by each and every person he had hurt. He knew he didn't deserve to be forgiven. But the fact that he accepted he deserved it didn't mean he wanted it. 

He was sick of being beaten, he was sick of his skin being bruised all the time. He was sick of being tortured, it hadn't stopped ever since the first time and he just wanted it to _stop_. But he didn't want to _die_. So he looked up to this man he had hurt, so much, and asked him to spare his miserable life. 

Because Ryan was scared. He wasn't sure if he believed in hell, but if such thing existed then he definitely was going down. And he wasn't really fond of the idea of being tortured for all eternity. 

"You're the reason half my family is dead." Party hissed, and Fever saw his finger press slightly against the trigger. He stared at the barrel, and started shaking. He tried to control himself, but he started hyperventilating pretty quickly. But he didn't move, he stayed there on his knees, placed his hands on his back and just waited. 

The tension in the room was broken by three knocks on the door. Nobody moved except for Serpent, who opened the door just to have a sparkly man rush inside and start asking questions. 

"Guys!" Bachelor exclaimed. "What - what is going on?" then he saw Party and Fever and slowly walked towards them. 

"Brendon..." Fever breathed out, _so happy_ to see him he didn't care if there were other people present when he used his real name. After that word had escaped his lips, Bachelor didn't look so pleased. Instead, he began understanding what was really going on. 

"Listen, Party." Bachelor said, keeping his voice low. "You have all the right in the world to be pissed, but... I ask you to think this through. I know it hurts to have lost your brother and Jet, and that you think killing him is going to make you feel better but-"

When Bachelor had started talking Party barely blinked, but now he turned his head sharply and stared at the man with wide, angry eyes. 

"You knew?" he whispered menancingly. 

"I... Yes, I knew. But I was... Stupid, okay? I let myself be confused by his lies."

"Those weren't lies, Brendon." Fever said, shaking his head and looking really distressed. 

"You don't know how I feel." Party murmured. "You don't know how any of us feel."

"Actually, I think I do." Bachelor said, sadly. "I lost my family too. One by one, through the years. I even thought this one was dead!" Fever looked up at him... with hope in his eyes?

"He's better off dead."

"Party, please." Bachelor whispered in his ear, so no one else could hear. "I love him...."

"Love doesn't keep you from getting shot. I loved my brothers more than anything in this stupid desert." Party whispered back. "That didn't save them, now did it?"

"I'm not asking you to spare him." Bachelor said, placing his hand on Party's raygun. "I'm asking you to let me do it."

"...what?" Fever breathed out, and tried to see the lie in Brendon's eyes. Because he couldn't be serious. But he didn't see anything. 

"I'll do it. I need to put an end to this madness, please." Bachelor begged. 

"Party." Ghoul chimed in, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let go."

Party stared at the kid in front of him, on his knees and almost in tears, begging Bachelor with his eyes. But when he turned to see Bachelor, his expression was as cold and hard as stone, completely undeterred. So he lowered his gun, and it was like a literal weight was lifted off Fever's shoulders. 

He didn't have much time of relief, since Bachelor had taken his raygun out and was pointing at Fever's head. The boy couldn't believe it, Party could see in his eyes that he loved Bachelor, and Party thought that Fever's situation was enough punishment. 

It was like, if Ghoul suddenly wanted to shoot him dead. So they all let them go, the Youngbloods looking even more devastated because that was their _friend_. The little guy they had practically raised. Party couldn't imagine how Phoenix had felt. 

Now, what was left to do, was wait. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ryan walked slowly through the sand, feeling the gun in the back of his head. For some reason, he was certain that if he tried something, Brendon would blow his brains out. So he did everything he told him to, without saying a word. Silent tears started rolling down his face, he had had to cry without making noise so many times, he was an expert at it. 

Finally, they stopped. In the middle of nowhere, just sand and dry weeds around them. 

"Are you going to kill me now?" Ryan asked. "Are you going to make me dig my own grave and then shoot me out here, where no one will find me?"

"Why would anyone apart from me want to grieve your death?"

"Fair enough."

"I want you to tell me truth." Brendon demanded, still pointing his raygun at him.

"It's not pretty." Ryan warned him. 

"It never is. Talk."

Ryan sighed and turned around to face Brendon, the gun ending up in front of his forehead. Ryan was looking at him with tired eyes, like he just wanted it to be over. Brendon wasn't sure if that was an act meant to make him feel some compation. But it was working. 

"I tried to run away from Battery City, I really did." Ryan started saying. "But I wasn't so lucky. BL/ind found me and I thought they were going to turn me into a draculoid. And honestly, I would have prefered that. Instead, Korse made me into his little puppet. He trained me to be a heartless soldier, to follow his every order with no hesitation. He sent me out here to infiltrate the rebels and destroy them from the inside..."

"So everything was a lie." Brendon stated, his eyes filling with tears. "I didn't meet you casually, did I? It was all part of your sick little games, right?"

"Most of it, but Brendon I... I fell in love with you. And that, is not a lie. That wasn't part of Korse's plan, it brought the whole thing down. The fact that I love you is the truest thing in my life, Brendon. That's why I refused to keep cooperating with BL/ind, but Korse wouldn't let me go. He tortured me, trying to replace what I felt for you with pain. He tried, he really did try to kill my feelings for you by threatening you and hurting me. In the end, I did what he told me to, because... We all do stupid things to make the pain stop. But know that my punishment was the guilt I felt every night, of hurting the ones who helped me. And that's my story, tragic and sad, I know. But that's how things turned out for me and I guess I deserve to die. And I am grateful it's you holding the gun. Go ahead. Shoot me."

Brendon's hand started shaking and Ryan closed his eyes. Well, that was the end. His life had been awful, and he just knew there was nothing he could do about it. But Brendon couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. He came to realize, _it wasn't Ryan's fault_. He didn't ask to be captured by BL/ind. He didn't ask to be tortured for what he felt. 

Ryan wrapped his hands around the gun to steady it, and whispered:

"It's fine... Do it, it's fine."

"It's not, Ry..." Brendon cried. "I want to forgive you..."

"I can't be forgiven. Not now, it's too late."

Brendon lowered his gun and stepped forward, cupping Ryan's cheeks and pulling him for a kiss. Ryan's breathing slowled down and he moved his lips against Brendon's in a bittersweet loving kiss, that could have lasted hours. Brendon ran his hands down Ryan's back, buried his fingers in his soft hair and caressed his face with his thumb. Ryan did the same, touching every inch of him, wanting to remember it no matter what happened next. 

They pulled away ever so slightly, just enough so they could stare at each other's eyes, both thinking to themselves how beautiful the other was. After a moment of them just staying in each other's arms in silence, Brendon pressed his raygun to Ryan's stomach and whispered:

"I'm so sorry."

Ryan just smiled, and his whole body trembled when electricity and white hot pain shot up his spine. He fell, not a care in the world where he landed, but before he could reach the ground, he felt Brendon's hand carefully placed on the back of his head, cradling him. 

He smiled, looking at Brendon with tears in his eyes. 'I love you' he mouthed, not being able to produce a single sound. He saw Brendon mouth an 'I love you too' in response. He came to accept his fate, and as the blood spilled into the sand, his life started fading away. He wasn't afraid anymore, he just wanted to slip into the darkness... Stop fighting, stop crying... Just get peace once and for all. 

And that's how Odd Fever, the traitor, died in Nicotined Bachelor's arms, the one and only person he came to love. 

The world may not forgive him. 

Odd Fever might not forgive himself. 

But Nicotined Bachelor certainly did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> Here's the new chapter. This story is coming to an end, just so you know, but I'll try to make things as good as possible :)
> 
> I hope you're all having a great day! <3


	10. Tomorrow's the End of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you want to do before going into battle and facing possible death?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I'll make that tag count**

Time doesn't fix things. Days passed, even weeks and nothing seemed to change. If anything, the nights got even colder, everyone whispered and moved with an uncomfortable slowness. And absolutely no one could sleep, not with Blurryface's screaming. 

Tyler had started having nightmares not long after the incident with Fever. And he suspected they weren't regular nightmares. Really, what was normal when it came to him? His dreams were always gloomy and he felt like he was in a cell. In a cage that was being dragged around a desertic landscape, the chains tingling as _something_ dragged the prisoner cell around. 

All Tyler wanted was to curl up in a corner and hide, but some energy was forcing him to stay near the bars, pressing his face in between them, watching his surroundings. It looked like the desert, except it was covered by fog and there were skeletons lying around, half covered by the sand. He saw people, a whole bunch of them missing limbs, eyes, all staring at the floor and bleeding from various spots on their beaten bodies. 

They were all defeated, waiting for death to come get them. They had stopped fighting long ago, some weren't moving, and some others were trying to reach each other. Trying to reach friends, brothers and sisters. 

And Tyler felt all of it. The pain, the despair, the desperation of everyone present. His head filled with pleading voices, with screams and sobs. It wouldn't stop even if he pressed his hands to his temples as hard as he could. Then it came the worst of all. 

Among the sea of corpses, he recognized someone. A pink flash and a familiar face. Josh was lying on the ground, bleeding and holding his gun up with a shaky hand. And Tyler just screamed:

"Do it, shoot me, shoot me!"

He begged Josh to pull the trigger. Because he _knew_ all that sadness and destruction was his fault. Or, at least, Blurryface's. So the only way to end him, was dying. But Josh, with tears in his eyes, lowered his gun. He just stared with so much love in his eyes, it made Tyler's heart ache. 

Red, white and black flashed before his eyes, and an evil laugh filled his head, deep and sinister. 

And then he woke up. 

Tyler clawed at his chest and struggled to breathe. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, and his brain was in such a state of panic, his ears were ringing loudly and his head felt like it was about to explode. Josh sat up and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and held his chin so he was looking at him. 

"Tyler." he said, looking into his eyes and keeping his voice low and calm. "It's over. I'm here, everything is okay. Breathe, breathe."

He started breathing slowly, in and out, and Tyler followed him until he felt the ache in his lungs disappear. He looked around and saw that everyone was awake. 

"I'm sorry." he said, barely loud enough for them to hear. 

"It's okay."

"It's fine."

"Wasn't asleep anyway."

Tyler turned to his lover and whispered: "I... I need some air." and Josh quickly complied. He helped Tyler up and accompanied him outside. Tyler sat on the hood of the brightly painted car and stared at the floor, his hands on his knees. Josh sat by his side and hugged him, as he breathed in and out along with him. The cold air tingled his lungs and ultimately made him feel a little better. 

"You okay now?" Josh asked, concern still dangling in his voice. 

"Yeah... I'm good." Tyler answered, and cuddled close to his chest. Josh kissed the top of his head and let his lips linger there for a while. He rubbed Tyler's arms in an attemp to keep him warm, without knowing that he wanted to feel cold. The chill in his skin, that kept his mind clear. 

"Josh? Can I ask you something?" 

"Yes, Ty. Anything." Josh answered, his face buried in Tyler's short hair. 

"If it was the only way to end this war, would you shoot... Him? Blurryface?"

Josh fell silent for a moment, and Tyler felt how his whole body tensed up. Then he shook his head. 

"No, I wouldnt." he said firmly. 

"What if I asked you to?" Tyler insisted, unable to get the dream out of his head. "Would you do it then?"

"No, I wouldn't. I couldn't either. Even if Blurryface was going to kill me, I wouldn't shoot you. I don't want you to die, I don't want you to leave. I'm selfish like that."

"Do you think all of this is happening because of me? At least that's how I feel. And it sucks." Tyler murmured, and rested his head on Josh's shoulder. 

"Hmm, sometimes I think about what would have happened if we hadn't left Battery City. And the truth is, I couldn't keep on living like that. Can't say this is the best, but it's definitely better. At least for me. You know why? Because I get to love you."

Tyler sighed and his breath turned into a cloud. He turned his head to look at Josh, and words were not needed at all. He closed the space between them and kissed Tyler's cold lips. Tyler hummed against his and buried his fingers in Josh's hair. The remaining bits of the dream faded away, as well as the weight in his chest. 

And they kept kissing, breathing each other in and sharing loving caresses. And that was enough for them. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We should aggresively make out on the hood of the Trans AM" Frank said, staring at the ceiling, completely and hopelessly awake. Gerard was calmly trying to fall sleep with his head placed comfortably on Frank's chest. He then saw his plan of getting a good night sleep completely crushed by his partner's insomnia. 

"That's a great idea, Frankie." he murmured, rubbing his cold feet against Frank's, making him cringe and tremble. 

"How about... We make love in the backseat of our car? That'll be nice, right?" Frank suggested, and Gerard only nodded. 

"I may like this car kink you got going on."

"It's not a car kink!" Frank argued. "It's the best place, if you don't want to do it in a closet or the dusty attic. But hey! If you want to do it here in front of all these people, I'll be happy to comply."

Gerard slapped him softly, and Frank, of course, made a very big deal about it. 

"Ah! I'm down! I can't go on, leave me!" he cried dramatically, and he just wouldn't stop talking. 

"Frank. Sleep." Gerard murmured, already dozing off. 

"Hey. Hey Gee." oh no. It was one of the jokes. It was coming. He could feel it in his bones. "What starts with G and ends with Ay?"

"Could it possibly be... Gay?" he said with his best sarcastical interest. He had learned not to fight Frank and his jokes. 

"No, it's _Gerard Way_."

And he grinned at his own joke, very proud of himself. Frank caressed his back lovingly and started humming a tune to lull him to sleep. It was weirdly similar to Mikey's lullaby, but raspier and deeper in Frank's voice. At least, that was better than falling sleep in fear of nightmares and monsters that didn't quite exist. 

 

Believer couldn't sleep either. He kept thinking about Phoenix in a cell, shaking because of the cold and holding his... Arm close to his chest. He also thought about Mikey sleeping alone, curled up in the ground like a dog, waiting for something he didn't quite know. Believer was so tired, he felt his muscles aching and just adjusted himself in between Alpha and Serpent and closed his eyes. 

_Pete made his way to the witch hut, like he always did these days. He couldn't say he liked having to choose between Mikey and his group. Is not like they didn't do that before, but at least they could be in the same place. Pete had begged him to come to the diner, but Mikey wasn't having it. Which, with Mikey's short-tempered self, led to a heated argument Pete would like to forget. They both said (yelled) things that were harmful and that they did not mean._

_Mikey was still where Pete left him, hugging his knees, frowning and pouting like a little kid. Pete let himself fall besides him and Mikey just stared with an eyebrow raised._

_"Stop being such a grumpy cat." he joked, sitting closer to him. Mikey just looked like a kid who got yelled at, half sad and half angry. Pete gave him a quick peck on the lips, but that didn't change anything._

_"I said I was sorry, I am sorry, are you still mad at me?" Pete asked, his eyebrows knitting with concern._

_He didn't want Mikey to be mad at him. Not now that time seemed more precious than ever. A small smirk pulled at his lips, so the answer was no, but he said:_

_"Maybe." Pete knew he was just teasing, so he relaxed and threw his arms over him, making them fall over._

_The thing was that Mikey didn't want to go to the diner, because he thought he was a monster and didn't want Party or Ghoul to see him like that. He said it was better for them to move on. That it would cause them more pain than good._

_"Pete." he said, turning serious in between the playful kisses. "I wouldn't ask you to do this, but I need you to. Please..."_

_"What is it, Mikes?"_

_The little pet name made things even harder. "I want you to kill me."_

_Pete stared at him with horrified eyes. He couldn't be serious. Why on earth would he say something like that? After all the trouble his death caused? All the pain? And he wanted to leave again? And he wanted Pete to do it? Why?_

_"I know it sounds bad, but I'm not staying any longer, I..."_

_"Why?" he asked, completely heartbroken, taking Mikey's hands between his. "Why do you want to leave?"_

_"Because I..." his breathing hitched and his eyes filled with tears, and in them he saw pain. Raw pain he hadn't noticed before. "I'm suffering, Pete. I didn't want to tell you 'cause I thought it would go away with time or that I could handle it. But I can't. It... It feels like I'm dying, Pete. Over and over again and it just doesn't stop."_

_"Mikey..." Pete breathed out, suddenly out of breath and not knowing what to do. He wanted Mikey to stay, but he didn't want to see him suffer like that. He saw that Mikey had tried to ignore it and continue on, but he just couldn't._

_"It doesn't have to be violent. The witch? I think she knew this would happen. So she left some stuff here I can drink and it would be just like falling asleep..."_

_Pete stepped outside the hut and breathed in and out. Since Mikey couldn't follow him because of the sun, he stayed at the door as close as he could to him, and slowly reached for him, making the tip of his fingers start to burn with a horrible sizzling sound._

_It turned out Mikey was not quite a vampire. He didn't have the urgue to bite Pete's neck. Well, not like that anyway. He still had to eat, but as Devotee had said, the fruits of the earth didn't work. They made him incredibly sick. He could only eat something with meat, which was really hard to find. Pete said he was a mixture between a vampire and a werewolf._

_"Please don't be mad..." Mikey whispered, and didn't move until Pete shoved his hand out of the sun. He didn't have supernatural healing, so he still had the burns of last time, and couldn't afford to get new ones._

_"I'm not mad." Pete said, guiding him back inside. "I'm just sad, it's going to be like losing you all over again."_

_"No, it won't be the same." Mikey murmured, caressing his check with his non-burned hand. "You'll know I'm not really gone, that even in the after life I still have to watch over you."_

_That only made him feel slightly better. They pressed their foreheads together and rocked back and forth, in a comforting way._

_"You know that if your husband dies, you can have another boyfriend. Even marry him, right?"_

_"Yeah, that's not gonna happen."_

_"Pete." Mikey whined. "I want you to be happy, no matter what. And if someone makes you happy then..."_

_"That 'till death do us part' policy is not in our marriage contract." he said. "Not when one of the parts is supernaturally alive when the accord is made. It only proves that we can be together even after death, so having another relationship while the other is in another plain of existance is still considered cheating."_

_Mikey sighed dramatically, but Pete saw he was slightly amused._

_"Besides, I don't want a scary jealous ghost to haunt my ass, so I better stay out of it. Now that I think about it, it's scary how you say you're always watching. Like, always. Privacy it's no longer my safe house. How am I suppose to take a crap? More importantly, how am I suppose to jerk off?"_

_"Pete!" he exclaimed, covering his face._

_"A man has needs, Mikey. I said I wouldn't date anyone, I never said I would give up orgasms. Even if they are self-inflicted."_

_"And how is it a problem that I watch?" Mikey asked, a smug grin on his face._

_Between sexy looks and giggles they forgot about the whole death situation once again. It almost felt like a joke. But in the end, Pete had to leave and the topic surfaced again._

_"I'll be here, okay?" Pete said. "Don't you dare do it without me or I swear I will bring you back just so I can slap you. But... Not today? Please?"_

_He hated to ask Mikey to stay on earth reliving the pain of his death over and over, but he just wasn't ready._

_"Okay." Mikey agreed. "Tomorrow then."_

_"Tomorrow."_

Then he woke up, not very agitated but with a pressure in his chest that didn't let him breathe. Like really, he couldn't breathe. Making wheezing sounds like a fish out of the water he tried to call for someone, he pushed Alpha slightly for him to wake up but the first to come for his aid was, ironically, Blurryface. 

He saw the tears in Believer's eyes and how he didn't seem to be able to get oxygen into his lungs. So he placed a hand on Believer's chest with the intention of slowing down his breathing, but that only made it ten times worst. Believer felt his chest tighten even more, so Blurryface snatched his black hand away, looking at it with horror. A second later he regained his posture and said:

"Don't swallow the feeling, It's like swallowing the venom. Spit it out. Not in, Believer, out, let it out."

And he did. He screamed and cried openly, he punched the floor a couple times, but after all the... _feeling_ was out, he felt a little lightheaded but relieved. Blurryface stared with a question in his eyes, and Believer just nodded and gave him a small 'thank you'. 

He leaned back into the mattress and sighed. Both Alpha and Serpent wrapped an arm around him, so he was now in a secure cocoon. And like that, he fell asleep again. No weird memory flashes this time

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Party didn't see Believer's little fit, because he wasn't even at the diner. After Ghoul had _finally_ fallen asleep, he sneaked out without anyone finding out. He liked to think he got that stealth from Mikey, always trying to figure out exactly how he did it. 

Time had passed, a lot. It didn't seem like it because absolutely nothing had happened most of the days. It was like being in a time lapse, the only way to get out was something happening. When you got out, you would look around all confused because _how long has it been?_.

Gerard did keep track of time, mainly because of the pills. The bottles started to empty and it ended up being like a hourglass, slowly getting emptier and Gerard had to watch those last bits fall and mark the end. He was out of pills. And he really really felt like he needed more. As a typical addict, he didn't think he was addicted. He knew what the side effects were, and he didn't see they were there. 

So he walked towards the market, blaming the lack of sleep for the weakness of his muscles. Oh was he wrong. He found the little stand he had visited long ago. The same guy was there, mixing some really shady stuff that was emiting some definitely toxic fumes. And because Drugs Guy was really responsible and dedicated to his job, he was using goggles and a bandanna over his nose and mouth. Safety first of course. 

When Drugs saw him, he raised his eyebrows and wrinkles appeared at the corner of his eyes when he smiled. Good to know his drug lord was happy to see him. He set his casserole of toxic paste aside and removed his safety equipment, and when he got a good look at him, his smile disappeared. 

He noticed how Gerard had lost weight ridiculously fast, his face was slimmer and so were his arms, so different from the muscular arms he used to have. His hair had started to fall off, and Gerard didn't know that was driving Frank crazy. His long, luscious red mane was considerably reduced, the hair was thinner and his scalp was visible at the sides of his head. His shirt was hanging a bit loose because how thin he was now. His eyes were rimmed with red as if he had been crying all night and his skin had lost its glossy appearance, replaced by a sick-looking bland and dry skin. He was shifting around, like he was nervous or uncomfortable.

"I'm out of pills." he simply stated, twisting his fingers. 

"I know." Drugs responded, not very enthusiastic about it. "It's that a gun in your pants or are you just happy to see me?"

His cheeks turned immediately crimson red when he saw the tent in his pants. But he was feeling a little... Party Poison in that moment. So his embarrassment went out the window. If he was having a boner, then everyone should be having a boner as well. He simply hid it with his jacket and stood a little bit straighter. 

"Sorry about that. Happens sometimes." 

"Yeah, I know. It's one of the side effects." Drugs said casually while refilling the prescription bottles.

Then Party Poison was gone, and scared little Gerard Way was back. He felt a little panic rise in his chest, so he asked:

"S-Side effects? I don't think I've had any, does this mean something bad?"

Drugs looked at him, not believing a word he was saying. He looked extremely done with Gerard. 

"Are you serious right now? You don't think you've had any? Honey, you're covered in side effects!"

"What - what are you talking about?"

"Dramatic weight loss, hair loss, lack of sleep, redness in the eyes, full-blown pupils, exhaustion, nervousness, jumpiness, I'm assuming headaches and chest pains. Am I forgetting something?"

Suddenly the weight of everything he had been ignoring fell on him like a bucket of ice water. He _was_ getting weaker. 

"How about... This?" he asked, motioning to his lower area. 

"Uncontrollable sex-drive is on the list" Drugs said, a smirk plastered on his face. "Although I can see it's combined with a serious case of sexual deprivation."

"Well, how do I fix it?" Party asked, looking a little distressed. 

"All I said? Stop talking these." he said, shaking the bottle and making the pills jingle around. "That? Get laid. Simple."

"Are you kidding?" Party said, annoyed. "You can't be serious." 

"Oh I am serious, Party Poison." Drugs said, walking towards him and lowering his voice. "I've been working with substances for longer than you've been around, and let me tell you that to this day I still got no idea what's on those BL/ind capsules. And this little cocktail of meds you've got, it's affecting all of your systems and specially your brain. Listen to me, Party Poison, if you keep popping this pills like they're candy, you'll die without a doubt. One of these days you're not going to wake up from that drug-induced coma you seem to love so much."

His voice sounded serious and deep, and Party's thoughts started racing at full speed. He thought about himself dying, how it could all end, all disappear. He suddenly felt sick and his vision blurried on the sides, it became hard to breathe and his sudden state of panic made Drugs run over to him with a bin. 

"Don't fight it." he said, rubbing his back and holding the bin close. "It's your body trying to purge itself, mixed with panic and fear. You'll feel better afterwards, come on, let it out."

Party held the sides of the bin and emptied the contents of his stomach into it. It was as disgusting and uncomfortable as it gets. Drugs stayed by his side the whole time, rubbing his back and talking to him trying to calm him down. He even wiped his mouth with a cloth and gave him some water to pass the bitter and acrid feeling of his stomach acids burning his throat. 

"I'm sorry." Party apologized, feeling a bit ashamed. "For puking all over your bin."

"It's okay." Drugs said, smiling kindly. "This isn't new to me. Believe me where I work there's a lot of sweat and vomit all the time. So nothing is gross to me anymore."

Before Party could ask what the hell was Drugs talking about, a little kid came out of the shadows. She had dirty blond hair falling on her shoulders and bright blue eyes filled with tears. She couldn't be older than seven. She seemed well fed for a kid living in the Zones, but was still pretty dirty, her white dress actually being a shade of brown. Much could not be expected if you lived in the underground. 

A young teen followed her closely, looking really tired and annoyed. The boy, that had to be like fourteen years old, had messy brown hair and the same blue eyes as the little girl. Party assumed they were brothers. 

"She won't go to sleep without it." the teen said, sighing. "And she wouldn't let me get it for her."

The girl went up to Drugs and looked up at him, doing a pouty face. He smiled a little and quickly went to get something from the counter. Party didn't like were that was going. 

"I'm sorry. I just didn't have so much time to finish it, but he's all fixed now."

And he handed her a teddy bear. The stuffed animal had been sewn together with different colors, and one of it's button eyes was completely different to the other. Despite the rustic look of the bear, the girl squealed in delight and hugged it tightly. 

"Thank you, thank you!" she sang, jumping up and down. "Can I have some? Can I have a little little bit?"

She was pointing at the pot that had been forgotten and was still fuming. Drugs took a look at it and shook his head. "We talked about this. Not now. It's really late and you shouldn't be up, go." he sent her back with the teen. "The same goes for you, if you were wondering."

They both disappeared into that part of the underground nobody really went to. Drugs sighed when he saw the look Party was giving him. 

"It's not what you think." he tried to defend himself. 

"They're just _children_." Party said, horrified. "How can you..."

"Before you start firing accusations." Drugs stated, and something in his eyes had changed. They were fierce, and protective. "It's not my fault my parents decided to drug them and turn them into mindless addicts at the age of eight and fifteen. They were in so deep when we escaped that if I cut the dose right off, they might have a heart attack. Or worse. So if anything I've been trying to unhook them and get them to stay clean."

Party suddenly felt awful for even thinking that Drugs would do that to children. Apparently those two were his brothers, and for the looks of it he was the oldest and the only one responsible for them. 

"Why do you sell drugs then?" Party asked, and saw some nostalgia in his eyes. 

"My parents had lots of them." he explained, crossing his arms over his chest. "So I started selling them so I could get carbons and feed my two brothers. It was the only way I saw to survive. But yeah, I felt awful about it, so when I found out about my costumer's problems and why they were taking the drugs, I started to look out for them. I slowly reduce their doses to get them to quit, I take care of them when the abstinence kicks in, I offer to listen to them and all that ultimately makes them feel better. I don't know what your problem is yet, but I've seen many men and women like you and I know how hard things can get out there. Hell, I don't know how it must be for the Party Poison. But this is what I do and I know there's someone who cares about you that is really worried about the state you're in."

Party fell silent, proccesing his story and feeling different about him. He saw kindness and compation in those eyes, not just a cold drug dealer. He saw someone who cared. He thought about Frank and his worried hazel eyes...

"I need you to promise me that you won't take these everyday." Drugs said, holding the paper bag the bottles were in. "That you will try to take them every other day at least. Don't try to quit so quickly or it will seriously be hell and your body may not be able to handle it."

Party took the bag with a sinking feeling in his chest, already craving the feeling but determined to get better. At least that's what he tried to get himself to believe. 

"I promise."

That made Drugs flash that kind smile again. Before he left, he heard him say:

"If you're feeling sick or need someone to talk to, you can come to me. Name's Dark Spades."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At dawn, a very sleepy Frank had opened the door to encounter Bachelor and a box full of supplies. Which was honestly a blessing from heaven because they were all running on fumes at that point. Bachelor looked terrible, like he hadn't slept in days, and Frank suspected he knew why. But he didn't mention it, he assumed Bachelor didn't want to talk about Fever whatsoever. 

The residents of the diner were awaken by a short man banging a pot with a wooden spoon,  shouting military-style with a smile on his face.  Tyler woke up and saw Ghoul bouncing around. Apparently having supplies and some luxuries had him in a really good mood. And who wouldn't be happy with a whole box full of food. 

Gerard had returned to the diner before dawn, and he pretended to be asleep so Frank could wake him up with the smell of coffee. Seriously who needed drugs when you had coffee? Even Frank who had some chronic problems when it came to food, was happily eating crackers. And then complaining about how they sucked the moisture out of his mouth. 

The mood seemed to be lifted with the food, since everyone was enjoying the meal, taking big scoops of tuna and peas and munching on beef jerky sticks. Frank had found a can of peaches and just thought that the situation couldn't get any better. 

Tyler wasn't exactly having a great time. He sighed and looked at his can of tuna, grimacing. Josh noticed it and asked what was wrong, to which he just answered:

"I don't have any appetite."

He knew he was hungry, he had to be. He knew he needed to eat, but the thought of it made his stomach turn.

"Give me, I can do the plane for you."

Tyler thought he was joking. He wasn't. Josh legitimately took the fork and waved it in front of Tyler, making whooshing noises. He laughed at how ridiculous they looked, but rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, letting Josh feed him. The fish tasted salty and pasty in his mouth, but seeing Josh's delighted face made his stomach feel a little better. 

That was something Tyler didn't know Blurryface could do. He knew he could make him feel tired but unable to sleep, and now make him lose appetite. He looked at Party, who didn't seem to have the same problem. After struggling a little bit, Tyler managed to down all the can and that pleased Josh very much. 

He kissed his lips softly and giggled to himself. 

"Look, Ty." he said, holding his hands between his. "It's fading."

It was. The blackness that covered his skin was starting to slowly fade, like paint that started to wash off. It seemed to be less vibrant and it _felt_ less heavy. Breathing had definitely become easier. That put a smile on his face, because that meant he could win. He could be free. 

A second later he remembered his dreams and the vision in them, and was hit by a sense of urgency. He didn't want to ruin the mood, but he felt like he _really needed_ to warn them. And suddenly, he felt an invisible hand start closing around his throat, forcing him not to speak. He heard whispers, voices he was sure no one else was listening. 'Shut up', 'Keep your mouth shut', 'Do not say it'. Before the grasp could get any stronger, he started saying:

"Josh, listen up there's going to be a-" he closed his hands around his neck and tried to get the pressure off, which had started to choke him. He tried to force the words out, to mouth them, but a force threw him to the floor and banged his head harshly against the tiles. 

"Tyler, NO!" Josh exclaimed, watching horrified as his eyes flashed between red and brown. Everybody tensed up and turned their heads to see what was going on. 

He wasn't going to let Blurryface win, not this time. So he fought, he fought that inmense force trying to take over him, and while he struggled in his mind, his body was writhing around, trying to breathe and his eyes turning red for a couple seconds and then back to brown. 

"Attack. A-Ambush. Trap-" he managed to say, his voice ranging from his normal pitch to the deep raspy one of Blurryface. 

And then, Tyler's eyes went completely red, and a gross smile appeared on his lips right before biting down hard on his own tongue, holding his gaze for a couple seconds before disappearing  and letting Tyler come back screaming in pain as the blood ran down his chin. 

Even so, with shaky hands he took Josh's arm and started drawing letters with his finger, so fast and nervously Josh was barely able to get the message. 

"A-T-T-A-C-K, T-O-M-O-R-R-O-W, B-L-I-N-D, D-A-N-G-E-R." Tyler spelled out on Josh's skin. 

"What is it? What's he saying?" Serpent asked, and everybody got a little closer to hear the message hidden in Tyler's sudden fit. 

"BL/ind is going to attack tomorrow." Josh translated for them, and everyone fell silent. 

"How does he know?" Ghoul asked, sure it had to do something with the other guy working with BL/ind, but how if he had never left the diner?

"B-L-U-R-R-Y-F-A-C-E, K-N-O-W-S." he spelled out, still breathing heavily and Josh translated every word. "D-R-E-A-M-S, V-I-S-I-O-N-S."

"What do you see on those dreams? What do the visions tell you?" Believer asked, a little anxious to know. 

"D-E-A-T-H. C-O-R-P-S-E-S. D-E-S-T-R-U-C-T-I-O-N.   B-L-U-R-R-Y-F-A-C-E."

"Well, looks like we're all screwed, 'cause with those odds, we might as well surrender." Ghoul whispered, his dark sense of humour kicking in. 

"There has to be a way, something that can change the future you see, maybe?" Party asked, more hopeful than Ghoul. 

Tyler stayed quiet for a moment and then spelled something Josh didn't translate. Instead he jumped back and shook his head, frowning at Tyler in an almost angry matter. 

"What? What did he say?" Alpha asked, looking back and forth between Tyler and Josh. 

"Nothing, doesn't matter." Josh answered harshly, and Tyler just kept making pleading signs and trying to get Josh to understand. He just took Tyler's hands in between his to stop him. 

"He wants you to kill him." Party whispered, and Josh dropped his hands in defeat. "That's it, isn't it?"

Tyler nodded slowly and Josh looked up at everyone with determined eyes. 

"No one is killing him."

"He says it's the only way to change the visions, and that's what he wants..." Ghoul started saying, trying to sound reasonable but instead appearing rude and heartless. 

"Ghoul-." Party warned him, but Josh was already in front of him with an angry expression. 

"You may want to use him as a scapegoat to safe your petty little life, but he has done _nothing_ wrong, if anything he's been living with that thing for a long time and that's something none of us understand. But what I do know, is that we are not killing him for it." Josh hissed, and Ghoul just stepped back. 

Tyler took hold of Josh's wrist and pulled him back, away from Ghoul. Josh gave him an angry look that made him let go, and retreat his hand slowly. He seemed even smaller and fragile sitting there on the floor, his head down. 

"Even if we did put an end to Blurryface, there's still BL/ind, if they're planning an attack they won't relay the whole thing on one guy, no matter how powerful he is." Party said, being the voice of reason. 

"Well can't we like, lock him up so he doesn't hurt anyone?" Ghoul said, trying to redeem himself. 

"Blurryface is really strong, he can break through walls and chains" Josh said quickly. 

"What if he can fight it?" Alpha asked to no one in particular, staying with his guard up for any protective boyfriend attacks. 

"What do you mean? Fight it how?" Believer asked, not really interested in having part of that conversation. 

"Well, we've seen him turn into Blurryface in a second, like the flick of a switch." Alpha explained. "But now we saw him fight him, like he was able to keep him under control at least for a moment. What if he does that while BL/ind fires their attack? They won't expect it and it would really throw them off and we'll have a chance to turn this around."

Party suddenly smiled at Alpha. Phoenix had made a good call. Tyler looked around like a frightened puppy but with great effort and a little pain, he said:

"I can try."

The tension started to disappear, just to move into each and everyone's chest, the reality of the fate that was laid upon them suddenly pressing on their hearts. That tomorrow might be the last day out of all. When you lived in the desert, death always seemed to be around the corner, there was no time to waste. But with the certaincy of something going down, it became hard to decide what to do. What do you want to do on your last day on earth, before going out into battle and facing possible death? 

Tyler retreated into the attic, holding back tears and trying to keep his hands from shaking. He needed release, somehow, he needed to shut off the pain. Ever since he had regained control, he could _feel him_ clawing at his insides, mocking him. He wanted to find a blade, but his shaky hands did not help his search. 

So he brought his hand to his mouth and bit down on it. Hard. The stinging pain calmed his breathing and the ringing in his ears, so he did it again and again. He brushed his tongue over the deep marks in his blackened skin. Laughter filled his head along with a chant of 'I'm winning.', and that's when something shiny caught his eye. 

It was an old knife, laid there almost on purpose. Sure, it was rusty but he was sure he could pierce his skin if he tried hard enough. As well as give him some disease. So he took the handle and pointed the blade at his throat. The laughter came back as well as a voice that terrorized him at night. 

" _Go ahead, do it. Oh well you can't, 'cause you're a coward, Tyler Joseph. A pathetic coward_."

"Shut up..." he cried, the sharp end of the knife pressing at his skin. "Please... SHUT UP!"

That's when Josh rushed towards him and snatched the blade out of his hand. He did it with such violence and desperation it made Tyler come back into the real world, a world where he had Josh looking out for him. He remember how mad Josh had been earlier and immediately burst into tears, feeling like he ruins _everything_.

Josh didn't say anything, he just wrapped his arms around Tyler and held his head close to his chest, so he could feel his heartbeat. It was racing, but with time it slowed down into a rhythmic beat that calmed him down little by little. 

"Don't be mad at me Josh..." Tyler whispered, starting to feel sleepy. "It was too much..."

"Of course I'm not mad." Josh answered, stroking Tyler's short hair. "I just acted out because I was scared, I'm sorry."

Tyler murmured something incomprehensible, and slowly fell asleep on Josh's chest. He just moved so he could lean back into the wall and squeezed Tyler tightly to make him sit on his lap and curl up against him. 

"Are you scared?" Tyler asked with a sleepy voice. 

"A little bit." Josh admitted, and Tyler groaned in response. 

"Don't worry... I won't let him hurt you..." 

And they stayed there, Josh hugging him close to keep him warm, and Tyler resting on his chest, feeling for once that he was safe. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Alpha was sitting in a booth with his head on his hands, trying to keep his thoughts in order. The pressure of an upcoming battle did that to him, push him around as he struggled to keep his balance. Serpent noticed it, and slipped into the booth beside him. 

"What's wrong, Alph?" he asked. 

"I'm starting to think that Phoenix is not coming back to us." he admitted, playing with his hands. "And I don't think I can be the head, Serpent, I'm not brave enough."

Serpent took him by the arm and guided him outside without saying a word. He made him get in the truck's driver's seat and hold the steering wheel. He jumped on the passanger seat and just stayed there, breathing in with a smile. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Alpha asked, a jokeful smile playing on his lips. "You know this truck won't start, right?"

"It doesn't have to." Serpent answered. "That's where Phoenix used to sit. Because he is the head and he knows where to drive. Now you have to do it and that's okay. You got the steering wheel and therefore you're in complete control."

That actually made him feel better as he gripped the steering wheel and that slowly reassured him that he was going to be okay. That he was going to make Phoenix proud. 

"I really like this truck." Serpent said, smiling. "It's full of our memories."

Memories. Like that time they were travelling and they all squeezed in the front row and sang along to the songs they loved. Sometimes singing at the top of their lungs, sometimes letting Phoenix sing and just listening and enjoying his amazing voice. Like that time they all slept in the back of the truck, using the sailcloth as a blanket and staring at the stars, laughing at terrible jokes and hugging tightly. 

That time Believer got zapped while trying to fix the engine and his hair stuck out in all directions. That time Serpent made them stop so he could see the meerkats. That time Phoenix broke the window that separated the back with the front just so Serpent and Alpha didn't feel so alone back there. 

That truck was full of good memories. Memories they shared as a family. And that's what Serpent and Alpha wanted to do before going into battle and facing possible death, remember and smile. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Believer was not happy, to say the least. He was... Relieved. Somehow. Because he thought about dying the next day. In battle. That's how he wanted to go, at least. And he would get to see Mikey sooner than expected. He walked towards the witch hut and saw his beautiful boyfriend staring at him, leaning on the door. 

The sun had started to go down already, bathing the desert with orange light. Pete sat down on the porche and Mikey quickly joined him, resting his head on his shoulder. He intertwined their fingers and asked if he had taken the poison already. Mikey nodded. So that shouldn't be long. 

Pete told him about what was happening, and how he was a little scared, but that he would fight with all he's got. Mikey shushed him and said it was okay. He sat on his lap and held his chin while giving him the most loving and sweet kiss. 

Then they just sat there in comfortable silence, holding each other and just waiting... For Mikey to go, as simple as falling asleep... 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two short guys had run into the attic and the Youngbloods were outside. Leaving Party and Ghoul to have the first floor to themselves.  That's when Frank kissed him aggresively, with such a sense of urgency Gerard could feel the fear and desperation in his lover's actions. 

"Why did we have so little time? It's not fair, Gee, it's not fair..." he whispered against their mouths, and Gerard had to agree with him. 

They didn't have much time to have each other, and now the world was going to crumble at their feet. Gerard pulled away and cupped Frank's cheeks, staring right into his eyes, and said. 

"Tomorrow's the end of the world..."

"Tomorrow's the end of the world." Frank repeated and wrapped his arms around Gerard's waist, his hands roaming up his shirt making him shiver. Gerard buried his fingers in Frank's long jet-black hair and parted his lips slightly. Frank slit his tongue into his mouth and tasted every inch of it, feeling the bittersweet coffee taste still lingering on his tongue. He took Gerard's lower lip in between his teeth and pulled seductively, before pushing Gerard against the wall and start kissing him down his neck. 

Gerard moaned softly and placed his hands on Frank's hips, pulling him closer and making him grind against him. The friction between them made them pant and ultimately want more, more of each other. Gerard pulled Frank's shirt over his head and threw it, pulling away for a moment to ogle the beautiful tattoos that ran across Frank's skin, brushing his fingertips along the delicate and artistic lines. 

Frank got chills from Gerard's touch, that didn't go unnoticed. He thought it was unfair that he was the only one shirtless, so he removed Gerard's shirt that ended up falling somewhere near his own. Frank ran his hands across his chest, never getting tired of the feeling of Gerard's skin. He managed to detach them from the wall and instead drag them near the mattress, pulling Frank closer and closer until they fell backwards. Frank let out a little scream at the trust fall, that made Gerard giggle. He ended up placed right on top of Gerard, who was panting and his cheeks were tinted with red. 

He only nodded, before parting his legs to let Frank be inbetween them. They stared at each other for a moment, before Frank started ondoing Gerard's belt with shaky hands. That made Gerard's heart warm a little bit, seeing how nervous and flustered Frank was. Gerard perked himself up with an elbow, and slowly dragged his tongue over Frank's collabones, making him moan softly and making his task ten times more difficult. 

Finally, he pinned Gerard's wrist over his head and kissed him deeply, before letting go and taking their pants off. Which was a difficult task since they were so tight. He even heard Frank curse under his breath while trying to set himself free from the tight jeans. Before Frank could do anything else, Gerard pulled him close to his chest and wrapped his legs around his waist, stroking their thighs together. 

His hands roamed under Frank's underwear, and that made him gasp. He started rolling his hips against his and that made Gerard moan loudly, feeling pleasure and chills run over his whole body. Frank took a deep breath and took their underwear off, and Gerard blushed even more than humanly possible. 

Frank sat back to admire the great Party Poison in all his naked glory, lying there before him, his head thrown back and staring at him through hodded eyes. Beautiful, his skin covered with scars and sweat. More importantly, he was Gerard, the man he hopelessly fell in love with. 

And he wanted to melt together, be one. He took the bottle of lube which was _conveniently_ placed near by, and generously cotted his fingers with it. The last thing he wanted was Gerard to be in pain. Still, he noticed that Gerard looked away and held his breath when Frank slowly pushed his finger inside him. 

He started to distract him by kissing his neck, his collarbones and all the way down to his chest, dragging his tongue across his skin and smiling whenever Gerard would moan, loving the expression he made, the mouth half open and the eyes closed in pleasure. In no time, Frank had to cover his length and aline himself with Gerard's entrance. He stared at him and he just nodded, wanting to feel him inside in the most intimate way. So he slowly pushed in, throwing his head back and moaning shamelessly at the tight feeling around him. 

Gerard bit his lip and groaned, but smiled a little when he saw that Frank was pulling the most pleasured and sexiest face there was. A moment later he had adjusted to the feeling and he rolled his hips to meet Frank's thrusts. They kissed fervently, touched each other with hungry hands and moaned loudly at the feelings rocking their bodies. 

And then, Frank angled his thrust and finally hit that spot, that made Gerard arch his back and roll his eyes. 

"Ah~, Frank..." he moaned, and as his name rolled off his tongue things escalated and got even more heated, Gerard begging for more and screaming in ecstasy as he came, clenching around Frank and being unbelievably tight made him go over the edge as well. 

He pulled out and let himself fall on his chest, panting and sweating. Gerard wrapped his arms around him, and threw the blanket over them, since the cold started piercing their skin and they were too lazy to put their clothes back on. 

"I love you, Frankie." he whispered, kissing the top of his head. Frank hummed in approval and murmured:

"I love you too, Gee."

Party Poison laid with Fun Ghoul.  
Black Believer stayed up, with an asleep Kobra Kid in his arms.  
Alpha Dog and Inked Serpent fell asleep together in their truck full of memories.  
Tyler and Josh stayed together in the attic. 

Devotee just smiled.  
Blurryface also smiled. 

They looked at each other, a sick playfulness in Blurryface's red eyes. 

_So go, do drugs, get drunk, get laid, stay with the ones you love the most. Do whatever makes you happy. Because tomorrow's the end of the world and there's nothing you can do about it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, tomorrow's the end of the world. I guess you got that pretty clear. 
> 
> I'll do my best to give this story the endind it deserves :)  
> Have a great week! <3


	11. S.I.G.H.T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle explodes with all its power. Would the rebels be able to handle it?  
> When you're fighting for your life, everything can happen.  
> Even the impossible.

Even if you wish with all your might that the Earth stops moving, that time freezes and you don't have to face whatever the morning brings, you'll always see the sun rising. 

You'll feel the seconds running and you realize that even if you want to, time won't stop. It will catch you eventually even if you try to run. 

And that was a very clear thought in every rebel's head. 

But waking up early in the morning, intertwined with the person you loved most and think 'I might die today' isn't something likable. 

Gerard's movement to get out of bed brought Frank back from the dream realm, making him blink and groan softly. He stared at Gerard's bare behind as he picked his clothes up. He noticed Gerard's ribs showing over his skin and the tension of his muscles as he dressed himself, but decided to ask him later. 

He didn't even say hi. Good morning. How are you. Nothing. Just silently went into the kitchen, leaving Frank still on the bed with a mix of annoyance and concern. Because something was happening, maybe it was the pressure of what was happening that day. But Gerard would go into full Party Poison mode and charge right in. Head on. 

To be fair, the situation was different. Something strange was happening to Gerard, something Frank didn't understand. He thought about it, and decided to ask Blurryface about it. Then he wished he had come up with that idea earlier. If you wanted to do something, you had to do it yesterday. 

Today there was nothing else to do. 

Frank walked towards the kitchen and saw Gerard leaning over the sink. His skin was pale and gleaming with sweat, he was closing his eyes tightly and breathing heavily through his mouth. 

"Are you okay, Gee?" Frank asked, arching his eyebrows. 

"I'm fine." he replied harshly, an expression of anger flashing on his face. 

"What's the matter with you?!" Frank shouted, frowning at Gerard who looked at him with an annoyed expression. "Did I do something wrong? Why are you so mad at me!?"

"I'm not, Frank. Stop being such a drama queen!" Gerard replied, spitting venom with those words.

"Drama queen? You really think I'm being overdramatic? We might die today and you don't even say good morning, instead you're being a dick to me!"

"Listen, Frank." he said, a little more calm. "Last night..."

"Was a mistake?" Frank completed, not aware that that was not what Gerard was going to say. "That you regret it? That we should act like it never happened because it was a one-time thing? Well bad news, Gerard! Because it wasn't just a quick fuck, it meant something to me."

That was not what Gerard was going to say. He was about to tell Frank the truth, about what was happening. He was going to say that last night he hadn't taken the pills so he could be with him and now the abstinence was hitting him like a truck. But Frank turned it all around and Gerard wasn't so sure about it anymore. 

"It's not like that." he tried to get Frank to understand. "That's not what I wanted to say. Of course it wasn't just sex. And I don't regret any of it. I just... Don't know what's happening to me." he lied. He prefered to hide and protect himself behind doubt than telling Frank the truth. He didn't want Frank to hate him, call him an irresponsible junkie or such. Not when it was their possible last day together. 

"I... I understand." Frank said. His eyes that were once filled with pain and anger were now soft and compassionate. "It's normal to be afraid..."

"I'm not afraid to die, Frank." Gerard cut him off,  closing his eyes. "But don't mistake that for bravery when in reality is cowardice."

"Why would you say that?" Frank asked, crossing his arms on his chest. 

"Because I want to die." Gerard said plainly. "Because being alive has become a lot harder lately and if the battle gives me the opportunity to end my life without having to kill myself, I would take it. And that's why I'm worried. I'm worried any of this guys will jump in front of a rayshot to save the great Party Poison when in reality I wouldn't dodge or jump out of the way."

Frank fell silent and looked at the floor. He bit his lip and said:

"I know I'm in no position to ask you this. But please, dodge. Jump out of the way. 'Cause I don't want to lose you, Gee, and I know you don't want me to die either. Just... Survive this time. After all of this is over we'll figure things out, okay? Please."

Frank was giving him a pleading look and seemed very distressed. So Gerard thought about it for a second. Surviving not for himself, but for Frank. 

"Okay. I'll do it. I'll survive." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The attic had a little window, and the sun slowly crept into the room, falling on Tyler's face, waking him up. He shifted away from the rays in hopes of going back to sleep, but then he realized he couldn't. It was today. He noticed Josh's grip on him tighten, letting him know he was awake. 

"Are you scared?" Tyler asked, feeling the lightness Josh's touch brought to his head. 

"Yeah, a little." he admitted. 

"Josh... If I'm not able to control him..." he started saying, but Josh cut him by saying:

"Even if that happens, I'm not shooting you."

"I know, I wasn't going to ask you to."

"Then what is it?"

"You have to make it out, Josh. Meaning you can't die today. Anything you have to do, you do it. To stay alive. For me."

Josh didn't say anything for a while. Tyler knew his request was somehow impossible, but he had to say it. Get it out of his chest. And Josh thought it was sincere, that Tyler didn't want him to die, it was obvious. But the truth was that Tyler wanted Josh to move on. 

Because he didn't think he was going to make it. 

He had a plan, an awful idea combined with a deadly weapon. He was sick of having Blurryface comfortably sitting in his mind, poisoning it slowly and laughing maniacally. He had had enough. So he was going to put a gun to his head and shoot. 

Yes, Blurryface had called him coward, but this time was different. The situation where he was a threat to others was his scapegoat, his excuse to pull the trigger without remorse. 

It was not suicide. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make. Even if it left Josh alone and completely broken. 

They walked down the stairs slowly only to find that everyone was arguing. Party and Ghoul were arguing in the kitchen, and the Youngbloods were having a heated conflict. The two boys recoiled in the stairs, not wanting to get involve in any of the fights. 

"Where were you, huh?" Alpha was saying, his arms crossed and looking at Believer with an angry expression. Believer was looking at the floor in shame, Alpha's little rant reminded him of Phoenix, and how he would scold him when he kept secrets. "We were supposed to be here for each other yesterday, because it was the last time we would be safe together, and you run off to who knows where!"

"I'm sorry, I..."

"Are you seeing someone?" Serpent asked, siding with Alpha. 

"What? No!" he lied. The whole Mikey thing would be hell to explain. Besides, he wasn't there anymore. He had slowly fallen sleep in his arms and then vanished, as if he was made of dust and sand. 

"Then what is it?" Alpha asked. "Because nothing is more important than family. And you're family to us. Are we not family to you?"

"Stop saying that! Of course you guys are important to me. I just... I needed to be alone. I really did. But with that I didn't mean to hurt you! Please, you have to believe me!"

Alpha stayed silent, but Serpent closed the space between him and Believer and wrapped his strong, tattooed arms around him. Believer smiled and hugged him back, looking up to Alpha over Serpent's shoulder. A second later he let the mask of angry concerned leader fall and stepped forward to hug his family. 

Party and Ghoul came out of the kitchen very close to each other and holding hands. That's when Tyler and Josh decided to come out as well. The seven rebels stayed in the same room in solemn silence, before Ghoul started passing breakfast to everyone. They needed all their strength after all. 

Ghoul was strangely kind. He gave their portion to Tyler and Josh without the usual untrusty looks. He even gave Tyler a little piece of chocolate. Which he was extremely grateful for. The nice atmosphere filling the diner didn't last long, since Tyler had a head-splitting migrane, and it wouldn't go away no matter how hard he pressed his hands against his temples. 

He passed out in Josh's arms for a couple seconds and then came back just to say they were here. Any second now. The rebels finished their meals quickly with a kind of 'the last supper' vibe. They grabbed their masks and slowly helped each other. Alpha's was shaped like a jackal's head, and it covered his eyes and nose. The big ears sticked over his head and in between his curly hair. 

Serpent's mask was like a sand-colored rattlesnake that circled around his head, only leaving his eyes exposed and giving kind of a mummy-look. Believer had his black mask with dark blue stars in his hands, running his fingers against the pointy end that went over his nose. He stared at Patrick's mask, a literal phoenix with outstretched, flaming wings. The bright red, yellow and orange mask was lying on the floor, along with Mikey's 'good luck' helmet. 

He didn't want to think about it too much. 

Tyler and Josh didn't have any masks, so they just sat around, Tyler shaking in anticipation. 

Gerard tied his yellow clown-eyed mask around his eyes, feeling it a little more heavy than it actually was. Frank had a mask, but he never wore it. It drove Gerard crazy at first, but he had learned not to bother convincing Frank. 

And they marched into the desert, following Tyler's twitching figure. 

Josh never left his side, squeezing his hand and whispering soothing things into his ear. Tyler felt like he was floating, being painfully dragged by chains that bit into his neck and cut his breathing a little bit. At that point, Josh's pure touch on his poisonous hand was the only thing keeping his mind clear. 

And finally, after what felt like hours walking under the sun, the pulling stopped. He almost fell because of the sudden change, but Josh held him tightly and kept him on his feet. Tyler had led them to the very front of the battle, actual rows and rows of draculoids and exterminators marching forward like a wave of dead-white mechanical soldiers, following one gross head. Korse himself. 

The army stopped, making the dust fly around their feet, their rayguns tightly held against their chest. They only stopped because Korse stopped, and looked at the boys with sincere surprise on his face. It was the first time they were seeing Korse in person, and they couldn't help but have a sinking feeling in their guts. 

Korse was really tall. Like 7 feet tall. He towered over everyone present, making him seem unbeatable and unforgiving. Ghoul felt like that giant freak could crush his skull with his bare hands. He was probably right. His skin was a sick greyish color, his bald head and hollow eyes made him look like an alien. 

He scanned everyone standing before him with his eyes, and shrugged. He was probably thinking that no matter how trained and how 'hell of a figther' they all were, seven guys had absolutely no chance against his army. He outnumered them like ten to one, and them coming at him made his job a lot easier. Sure, he didn't have the element of surprise anymore, but there was no way he could lose. 

What Korse didn't know was that the rebels had an ace under their sleeves. And it was so well hidden not even the rebels themselves knew about it. They saw Korse's expression change, and a second later they noticed they were not alone. 

The dust rose up and swirled around in the air. Dust lifted off the ground by pairs of feet, feet covered in combat boots. Bright colorful clothing appeared in between the sandy atmosphere, hands holding spray-painted rayguns, their face hidden behind masks, hair dyed unnatural colors. 

Rebels. 

Guys and girls cat-walked up to the others, fierce glances being thrown at Korse and his army, delivering a message Party Poison and the others couldn't do by themselves. 

_We're strong, and we are many. We are not afraid of you._

The new rebels stood tall in front of Korse's army, their chins raised high, brave and defiant. They all lined up to match the draculoid's formation, shoulder with shoulder behind Party. Behind him, ready to follow orders. _His_ orders. That didn't help the tingly feeling in his gut. 

He supposed a huge army of draculoids couldn't go unnoticed, and he thanked Doctor D for being so good at spreading news. Korse stopped frowning just to smile at Tyler, and made a gesture towards him. Tyler felt his stomach turn and thought he was going to throw up. He doubled over and held his gut tightly, breathing heavily.

Josh was about to kneel beside him, when Tyler screamed out in pain, pressing his temples and shaking uncontrollably. But Believer, who was standing besides Josh, took hold of his arm and stopped him. 

"Let him." he whispered, and Josh looked at him with disbelief. 

"It's killing him." Josh answered with his teeth clenched. 

"If you touch him, he'll lose focus. He has to control it. He can do it." Believer said, looking at him with serious eyes. 

Josh didn't think he could do it. Specially when his back was arched in an unnatural angle as if he was possessed. His eyes were flickering from brown to red, and Josh had to watch his lover writhe around fighting and invisible force that was suffocating him slowly. 

"Come on, Blurryface." Korse said, getting impatient. "That boy used to be your puppet, is he pulling at the strings now?"

A low growl escaped from Tyler's throat, but with a claw-like hand he pressed his fingers against his skin, trying to cut the air supply. But in the end, the red stayed, and with forced movement he stood up and limped towards Korse, crossing the space between the two. 

"Tyler Joseph is no challenge to me." Blurryface said, his voice sounding raspy against his throat. "And what needs to be done, will be..."

"Done." a sweet, soft voice completed Blurryface's phrase. Believer felt a chill go through his whole body. He knew that voice. 

"Devotee..." the word rolled off his tongue without him thinking too much about it. The delicate woman turned her head around, making the hood fall off her head and reveal long, pure white hair. 

She smiled at him, her rows of perfect white teeth flashing towards him. "Believer..." she whispered. 

"What are you doing here, woman." Blurryface mumbled, visibly shocked and uncomfortable. 

"I got a name, you bastard." she answered, the harsh words sliding off her tongue with a sweet voice. "And I, as well as you, can be anywhere I want to. And since this will be an important battle to what's left of this world, I desire to watch. 

"But you already know how this is going to end,  don't you?" 

She just laughed. 

"Then you know that I am going to win."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In less than a second, everything exploted. Rayguns started shooting, and with that came the screaming, the grunting and the sudden movement. Party wasn't prepared, so he just fell to the ground and tried to ignore the ringing in his ears. 

He had to snap out it. Start shooting. So he stayed on low ground and shot a bunch of enemies, but they wouldn't stop coming... So the rebels had to step back a little. He tried to get away from the threat, but something made him fall on his back. 

A corpse. A guy who was shot right in the head, and was lying there lifeless. To see the pale face of someone who had a family and mattered to someone, knocked the air out of him. When he looked up, he saw Blurryface towering over him with a gross smile, and with one flick of his wrist, Party's world fell apart. 

He felt like he had a cinderblock placed on his chest, his mouth went dry and he started crying. Why? He didn't know. Just tears rolling down his face and a strange urgue to... Do nothing. To lie in the ground and wait for death. Emptyness was all there was. Nothing more. 

No meaning. No will. No strength. 

He looked around just to see more rebels in similar situations. Some were pulling at their hair, some screamed at things that were not there, some just froze in place and struggled to breathe. While others were still fighting, guns forgotten when the dracs came too close. How could they still fight while Party was drowning?  He was trapped in his own personal hurricane, getting the oxygen sucked out of his lungs painfully slow. 

There was chaos around him, but Party didn't even flinch. Until he saw a small figure jump over him and land a kick right in Blurryface's jaw. He made a small twirl and fell on his hands and feet, agile and slim like a cat. 

"Ghoul..." Party whispered, reaching to him like a desperate man looking for water. He gave him a quick glance before getting grabbed by a black hand, that squeezed his neck and started choking him. 

Party saw black matter slowly crawl under his skin towards his head. Like hell was he letting that happen. That was what he needed to get out of the weird depressive trance, and punched Blurryface so hard he fell on the ground rubbing his cheek. 

Party wrapped his arms around Ghoul to keep him on his feet. 

"I'm okay." Ghoul breathed out. "It didn't reach my head, not completely."

And with those simple reassuring words, they both jumped back into the fight, shooting before the enemies had a chance to raise their guns. They ignored the bodies falling around them, when everything was over there would be time to think about that. 

They saw the Youngbloods fighting together. They were very different from the way Party and Ghoul fought, agile and smooth movements to land the perfect hits. The Youngbloods were a ball of energy, an explosion. A massive attack in all angles and directions. Party and Ghoul could see why they had becomed one of the most important rebel groups out there. 

Spooky Jim, the guy who had just started living as an insurgent and was part of a two-man group, was giving a hell of a fight. He was focused, and had an incredible aim and coordination it seemed like no one could stop him. The only weakness he had, was that he was fighting his lover. His best friend. 

He kept shooting at Blurryface's feet, making him jump out of the way to avoid them and by that keeping him away from the others. 

And Tyler? Tyler was there, inside a monster screaming and trying to take control over his own body. He had to watch through his eyes as Blurryface snapped people's necks, made them go crazy with his disease and just made chaos a hundred times worst for everyone. 

But when he wanted to hurt Josh, and walked towards him with the intention of placing his blackened hands over his temples and poison his mind, Tyler would come back for just a second. That second was enough to push himself backwards and with that keep Blurryface away from Josh. 

He wasn't going to break his promise. 

Josh caught up with that quickly, so instead of running away from Blurryface, he stepped forward towards him. With determination and fear screaming at the back of his mind, he started chasing him, forcing Tyler to come out and keep Blurryface in line. 

Each time he did it, it became harder and harder, until he had to plead for Josh to stop. To stop chasing him, to go away and leave him alone. Blurryface took over one more time and ran towards Devotee, who was standing aside, untouched. 

"This is bad, this is bad and you know it." he yelled, shaking her and making dark smoke appear around his hands. "Do what you do best, darling. Blind them."

"They'll lose." she answered calmly. 

"And since when do you care what happens to them? You make them fall into ignorance and that brings consecuences, sweety. Blind them."

"I don't want to." Devotee said, subtly trying to get free from Blurryface's grip. 

"You will do it, Denial." she flinched visibly at the word. "Because I know what you did. I know you brought that boy back and that wasn't your job..."

"I fixed it. He's gone and that's how's suppose to be." she answered, and there was a little fear in her voice that had never been there before. 

"That doesn't take away the fact that you broke the rules. Blind them, and I will magically forget what you did and no one needs to know. BLIND THEM!"

Devotee didn't like being blackmailed. And as any living organism, she would do anything to stay as a living organism. It was simple logic to anyone without being clouded by emotion. And Devotee tried not to be. 

So she breathed in, and extended her delicate arms. Everything seemed to freeze. Well, not quite. More like slow down. The white-dressed dracs were so slow they could get out of their way effortlessly. Before they could think too much about what was happening, a bright blue light appeared. It was like a shining blue star had fallen from the sky. 

Navy blue smoke started coming out, leaving them only a few feet of sight in front of them. And it was terrorizing, no matter how much they moved to find each other, it was like being in a neverending maze. 

Party was looking for Ghoul, until a soft whisper made him stop. 

"Gee...?"

He knew that voice, how could he not? He had heard that voice for over 20 years, he recognized that word in that voice faster than his real name. But he was afraid, afraid he had finally gone crazy. But he still turned around

And there he was. Mikey, his baby brother. Except it wasn't quite him. He was like a ghost,  a blue hologram. If Gerard concentrated enough, he could see the smoke swirling through him. He was a product of Gerard's imagination. He had to be. He was delirious. Delusional. 

Except it felt real when Mikey hugged him. As real as he could get. So he hugged him back, tightly and didn't let go for a while. His head was a mess with thoughts, 'he's still dead' but 'he's here'. What told Gerard his brother wasn't really there, was how cold he was at the touch. Nobody _alive_ could be that cold. 

The smoke started to clear, enough for him to see Frank with his face buried in a ghostly-holographic Ray. Mikey let go of him and Gerard ran towards them, being received with a smile. 

The two alive. The two dead. The four Killjoys melted into a hug that could have lasted hours.  And words were not needed, not at all, they were in the air, as if their thoughts could leave their heads and float around them. 'Stay strong.', 'We miss you so much.'

'We love you.'. 

Gerard felt Frank's shoulders shaking, and noticed he was crying. Frank was crying. Tears of joy and pain rolled down his cheeks, making their hug go even tighter. Frank didn't cry very often in front of any of them. He didn't cry when Mikey and Ray died. He didn't cry when Gerard and him had fought in the attic. 

Frank was tough, few things made him crack. But there he was, crying in between his brother's arms. Gerard wrapped them all in his protective hug, and saw that Youngbloods were having a similar scene. 

A ghostly Phoenix was sitting on the floor, looking down. But there was something different about him. He was like a blue hologram as Mikey and Ray, but there was a warm orange light in his chest. It was palpitating, almost as a heart. Which meant he was still alive. 

The three other Youngbloods were kneeling beside him, their arms wrapped around his figure. Phoenix didn't seem to hear them or notice they were there. He was just a projection of the real Phoenix, trapped in a cell with one hand less. But at least it gave the Youngbloods some comfort by knowing he was still alive. 

Josh's vision was a lot more heartbreaking. Instead of just a hologram of someone he loved, he got a full picture of a cell, with Tyler trapped in it. He had that orange light in his chest too, but it was weaker than Phoenix's. They were both pressed against the bars, trying to be as closed as they let them. 

Tyler's image was beaten up, with open cuts in his face and just looking like he had fought some kind of animal. Josh didn't like to think too much about it. That he was seeing that meant that the real Tyler was trapped in a prisoner cell, and was fighting to get out. 

And then there was a small figure, a young guy standing far away from everyone with no orange light in his chest. He had his arms wrapped around himself and just looked like he didn't want to be there. He had been brought there by an inexplicable force, and had to watch as the other dead ones ran happily towards their living relatives. He didn't even bother to look around. 

He knew no one missed him. 

In death, his wounds had healed and there were no more bruises on his skin. But he still had scars. When he had passed, his feelings had become softer. But did not completely disappear. He still didn't forgive himself for what he had done in life, so he considered it his personal hell. 

However, to his own surprise, a tall guy ran towards him and tackled him into a bone-crushing hug. 

"Ryan..." he whispered, burying his face in Ryan's shoulder. He was so shocked it took him a little time to process what was happening. He then wrapped his slim arms aroung Brendon and let himself feel safe for once. Brendon kissed him, and his lips felt weird against his. Weird, but nice. That could only mean one thing.

Brendon cared. He still loved him. He _forgave_ him. 

Ryan let himself feel light, free from the weight of the guilt he carried by his own choice. Being there with Brendon one more time after their tragic departure made him think that maybe he wasn't a total waste in life. 

The blue star that had fallen started shining again, and every dead one felt a strange pull towards it. A call. A call telling them it was time to go. Of course they couldn't stay forever. 

Ray had gone to kiss goodbye a girl with a deep cut on her forehead. She was crying silently, and Party supposed she was Christa. He didn't know if she had listened to the report or if that was the way she found out her lover was dead. Party hopped it was the first. 

Mikey was smiling at Believer, who had his palm placed on Mikey's cheek. It wasn't the amorous encounter Party expected, it was like they had met before. After the last goodbye was given, the dead ones started to walk towards the blue star, its light making their figures harder and harder to see. 

What Party did see, was his brother hugging a surprised Fever. He read his brother's lips saying 'I forgive you.' Fever started crying, bright silvery tears rolling down his cheeks as he hugged Mikey back. Having emotions while being dead was very weird. It was like there was an energy inside you beating like a heart and it gave you either a warm cozy feeling or a stinging pain. There was no in between. 

Hearing those words made him think that maybe he didn't need to keep blaming himself, he could stop being so hard on himself. Because if Kobra himself forgave him, he could surely forgive himself. He didn't need to spend all eternity drowned in self-inflicted pain and guilt.  
In the end, they were all dead. 

The blue star started to slowly fade, until there was no trace of it. The slow-motion suddenly stopped working on them, and in one millisecond everything happened. Rebels had woken up from the weird undead trance just to find a draculoid pointing a gun at their face. 

For some, it was just a second of confusion caused by things moving way too fast, before they saw the flash of bright light of the gun being shot. And then a head-splitting pain. And then nothing. 

Maybe they went into the blue star. 

Party was lucky to get out of the way fast enough, but still got a pretty painful shot to his arm. Then he understood why Devotee had said that they would lose. Almost half of the rebels were killed, letting Korse's army take the advantage of numbers again. 

He felt so angry. He wanted to charge at Korse and rip him apart with his own hands. He looked around to find Ghoul rarely untouched, and was glad he was still alive. Party gave him a serious look and then looked straight at Korse. 

"Ghoul, how do you defeat a giant?" he asked, knowing Ghoul was listening. 

"You bring it down." he answered, and started making up a plan as fast as he could. Without having to talk, just a few signs here and there they started moving. 

Korse was incredibly fast for his size, so he would see them coming if they went for his legs. And one kick would definitely break Ghoul's ribs. So they went for the element of surprise. Korse was paying close attention to them, and even if he looked surprised he prepared to receive an attack, head-on. What he didn't know was that Ghoul and Party had a different plan, something else in mind, an approach so sudden Korse didn't have the time to react. 

Party took hold of the back of Ghoul's shirt, and spun him around, gaining momentum and then throwing him forward into the air, right at Korse's head. Ghoul was light and agile, so he was down to be a human bullet. Also, the adrenaline gave Party the strength to do it even if he hadn't been at his best the last couple days. 

He flew through the air and landed on Korse's clavicule, but was able to puncture one of his eyes with a small blade he carried for hand-to-hand combat. Ghoul's weight and the sudden pain in his eye made Korse curse and stumble, falling to the ground. What they had not planned was Korse falling forward, instead of backwards. 

Which didn't make any sense to Party. Maybe Ghoul's weight and the momentum he carried met Korse's force and just wasn't quite enough to throw him backwards. Instead, the giant lost his balance and fell to his knees. Fortunately, Korse wasn't able to hold himself and collapsed completely on the floor. 

Downside, he fell _on top_ of Ghoul's leg. He screamed out in pain and Party rushed to his aid. Korse lifted himself and Party kicked him over and pulled Ghoul away from the whole scene.

"Are you okay?" he asked, even though the answer was obvious. 

"I think my leg's broken." Ghoul answered, flinching at the stinging pain.

Things were going south way too fast. Blurryface was still in full killing machine mode, and the rebels were losing. They were losing, they needed to face it. Maybe it was the end, Ghoul was injured and Party was losing his strength. 

So Believer, little reckless Believer, tried to turn the table one last time. Pete Wentz was not afraid to die in battle. Thats how he wanted to go. And ever since his whole experience with Mikey, death didn't seem like a bad thing. He touched his ring finger absently, and took a deep breath. 

He jumped towards Blurryface and held his arms behind his back. 

The golden rule was not to touch Blurryface unless you were Jim. And it was the golden rule for a reason. It was like Blurryface's skin was burning hot, and that heat started crawling up his arms. He clenched his teeth and wanted to scream out, but he held the guy in place. 

Blurryface turned his head to an impossible degree and stared at him with angry red eyes. It was all possible thanks to the other rebels keeping the dracs from shooting them. 

Jim was on the floor, holding his wounded shoulder and staring with wide eyes at the scene playing before him. 

"Shoot him!" Believer yelled, feeling like he couldn't hold him any longer. Blurryface laughed, a loud raspy sound, mocking them all. Because even though Josh raised his gun and pointed it at him, he knew he wasn't going to pull the trigger. He couldn't kill his lover and best friend. He loved that Tyler guy too much to do that. 

So Blurryface got free, turned around and smiled widely at Believer. With a twitch of his head, he whispered "crack" in a very humorous manner. Believer felt something inside him break, literally. He stumbled backwards and lied on the floor clunching his side. 

"Believer!" Alpha shouted over the noise of the battle when he saw his friend fall. He would have run to him, if he wasn't so busy trying to keep him safe. He had to trust and hope Believer was fine, he couldn't go and check on him. 

Blurryface laughed again. He was having too much fun. Devotee just watched from a distance with her mouth pressed into a thin line. She knew what was going to happen. 

Blurryface didn't. 

With all his might and left-over strength, Tyler surfaced. He regained control over his body and controlled his limbs, only to reach for the back of his jeans and pull out a gun. He gave Josh a look that left him breathless. It was an apology, an 'I love you.' and a pinch of fear all mixed in one. 

Then he put the gun in his mouth and shot.

And it was the loudest gunshot of the whole battle. It echoed all around the field, and everyone suddenly fell silent. The dracs stopped. Korse himself stared with horror at the falling figure. 

"NO!" Josh screamed his lungs out. He got up and ran towards Tyler, who was lying on the ground staring blanky at the sky. A trail of blood was flowing out of the back of his head, his fingers still grasping the gun. 

Josh shook his shoulders, as if he was only passed out. His wide eyes were bright red, and his mouth was opened in a surprised manner. The blackness of his neck and hands started disolving into his skin, until it disappeared, leaving only a few traces of dull grey. 

The red flickered and faded away, leaving the soft, innocent brown eyes of Tyler, that moved slowly to focus on Josh, and then he went limp, his chest not moving anymore and his glassy eyes... Finally clean of all malign traces but staring into nothing. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Josh didn't move. He stopped breathing. He didn't feel a thing when he took Tyler into his arms. He didn't hear the shooting and the general fuzz of the fighting. It was like everyone was moving flawlessly around him, and he was in a bubble where nothing could reach him. 

He saw Korse with his hands on his back and one bloodied eye-socket, staring at him with his good eye. He was the only one noticing Josh. And he didn't do anything, as if he too was sorry about Tyler. 

He had pictured it many times, Tyler finally giving up. He thought he would cry. But the tears didn't come. Nothing. An abysm of nothingness had swallowed him whole, and he could do nothing other than just... Be there. 

He didn't think it was real. He tried to convince himself by touching Tyler's head and feeling the warm blood on his fingers. He looked at it, the red sticky liquid. It was real. There was no way Tyler survived a shot to the head. The rayshot had gone through his _brain_. 

He was dead. 

Tyler was dead. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Blurryface fell, everyone was in shock, even Devotee had her hands over her mouth. 

And because he was an important part of the battle, he got a couple seconds of silence. Then it all started moving again, the draculoids taking advantage of the shocking moment. Some might say draculoids are more effective soldiers than a regular, healthy human. And they were right. The drugs killed their emotions so they couldn't be blackmailed, they couldn't be hurt by hurting the ones they loved. 

Because they didn't love. Their comrades could be dropping dead around them and they wouldn't even flinch. 

They also had more stamina. And would keep fighting until they were killed, passed out or ordered to stop. That was one of the reasons the rebels were losing, and quickly. And they could go on, sure, but up to that point Party Poison himself saw no way out. 

They had to retreat if they wanted to survive.

But there were no guarantees, the army would keep chaising him, and he doubted they could outrun them. And Ghoul was wounded and couldn't even walk. Maybe... Maybe it was time to give it up. Maybe he could try to get away by carrying Ghoul, even though he knew he couldn't make it. 

Maybe the Youngbloods and the remaining rebels could escape. Spooky Jim? He wasn't so sure. 

But Ghoul - Frank had a different idea. A crazy reckless idea, fueled by the fact that his leg was broken and in the desert if you couldn't run, you were practically dead. Meaning he was practically dead. But Party - Gerard wasn't. He didn't need to be. 

Party was helping him walk after giving a signal of retreat. A sign to run. He struggled a little bit with a confused Party but he finally got free from his grip. He tried to balance his full weight on his good leg, but the pain and the dizziness in his head made it very hard. Still, he stood on his foot, and looked back at Korse and his army. 

"Ghoul, come on, what are you doing?!" Party exclaimed, backtracking to pull Ghoul with him. 

"I can't run." he said, his voice plain and monotonous. 

"Yeah no shit, come on! At least cooperate a little bit!"

"We don't have to die. Not both of us." Frank said, in a serious manner. 

"You can't possibly be thinking..." Gerard whispered, his voice shaking slightly. 

Frank just nodded. Gerard shook his head because there was _no way_ he was doing what Frank was suggesting. It was the absolute worst course of action a leader could take. Because it was taking advantage of the members of the group. 

"Save yourself." he said. "I'll hold them back."

No. No that was not happening. He was going to say something but Frank cupped his cheeks and stared right into his eyes. There was no fear in those eyes, there was a soothing feeling there in his hazel irises. 

"Go." he said. "I'll put up one hell of a fight and then I'll meet you on the other side."

"You'll die..." Gerard whispered. Right now there was no battle, just the two of them face to face, inches apart, trying to argue about something that no one deserved to even consider. Gerard didn't like people sacrificing themselves, it just made him feel guilty about being alive. Would he sacrifice himself to save someone? Of course he would, but nobody let him just because he was the goddamn leader. 

He didn't think that was a reason for people to give their lives for him. He didn't like that. He always tried to bend the situation as much as possible so everyone could get out safely if they had to flee. 

"It doesn't matter." Frank muttered, and he didn't seem scared, like at all. He was calm, almost peaceful, like it was nothing what he was about to do. 

"It does, Frank!" Gerard's voice broke, as he realized Frank was determined and there was nothing he could do about it. "I don't want to be alone, I don't want to be all alone! I already lost two of you guys, I can't lose you too, please don't leave me!"

Frank winced at the pain in Gerard's voice, but took a deep breath and said:

"You can do this without me, Gerard. You're strong, I know you are. Promise me something.  You'll carry on. You'll keep fighting. For Mikey, for Ray. For me. Promise me, Gerard Way, that you won't give up."

Gerard let a sob escape his lips, and Frank wrapped his arms around him tightly, a single tear rolling down his cheek. 

"I..." Gerard started saying, but Frank silenced him with a kiss. One last, bittersweet goodbye kiss. 

"Party! We need to go!" a Youngblood shouted, Gerard didn't know which. Frank let him go and pushed him slightly. 

"Go, I'll see you. Some other time." 

And Gerard had to turn his back on his loved one, run along with the other rebels, all fleeing. Some would say they were cowards, but they knew when to quit the fight. At least for now. They decided not to waste their lives in a battle that couldn't be won. 

Gerard had few hundred rebels running along side him, but he felt completely and utterly alone. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frank was prepared to die.

Or at least he thought so. 

With pain in his broken leg and his chest, he turned around and started shooting. He was full of rage, rage at the world for being so unfair with him. For not letting him be happy with Gerard. That's all he ever wanted. 

He had fought with nails and teeth, he had fought for freedom and revolution. He had fought to save the world. 

And what did the world give him in the return? A sad, lonely death. He didn't know why the universe treated him like that. The rage came with adrenaline that dulled the pain and made him incredibly precise, landing every shot he made, square in the chest or right in the head. 

And it felt like hours, of him shooting everything white he saw that tried to get past him and chase the others. He knew he was alone. And that many draculoids against him finally caugh up to him. 

Frank got shot in the shoulder, making the arm holding the gun go limp. Had he dislocated his shoulder? He didn't quite feel it, so he wasn't sure. He took his raygun with his other hand, and tried to make a few last shots, which were sloppy and erratic, but still managed to kill some dracs. 

In the end, he felt his chest kind of explode, and knew he had been shot. He fell to the ground, and looked at the sky, blue and without a cloud. He felt his limbs slowly go numb, until he couldn't feel a thing. He thought he would choke on his own blood or be in extreme pain, but it was actually... Easy. To slip into the darkness slowly, smoothly, without a second thought...

And just like that, Frank Iero was dead. 

 

_He woke up in a wasteland. The surroundings were dim and looked like they were filmed by a really old crappy camera. It seemed to be a road, like Frank had never seen before. He had this annoying ringing in his ears and a slow melody stuck in his head._

_Where was he?_

_In hell?_

_Frank hadn't been a saint but he didn't think he deserved hell. It wasn't as he picture it, a dark abysm full of flames and demons. This seemed like a ghost town road, faded away long ago._

_Suddenly, he saw some kind of... Mobile that moved incredibly slow. There were people dressed in black walking along side it. Frank was curious about it, the only living thing in the whole space. At least Frank assumed there was someone alive._

_And he was right._

_As the weird dimension natives came closer, Frank realized it was actually a parade. A very dark, creepy one. There was a woman with a large dress and a gas mask, there was a skeleton soldier, and just creepy people in general. He blinked many times, but they were still there._

_On the main vehicle, there was a gang of fully black dressed people. Five of them. There was a guy with blond hair, that seemed weirdly familiar, like Frank had seen him before... But couldn't put his finger on it. The next thing he saw made him think he was crazy._

_But it was him, the long brown curls, the soft brown eyes. It was Ray. It was definitely him, but he was frowning, and had his hands on his back. It made him look like a particularly serious soldier. Upon a closer inspection, Frank realized Mikey was there too._

_But he looked way different. His hair... Was brown. Like a dark brown, almost blakish color. And it was short. Short. Few strands fell on his forehead, and his black jacket covered his entire upper body, a tiny medal hanging from the jacket. Ray had a medal too. It was so different from the Mikey Frank had known, long blond strands of hair pushed back and arms usually exposed._

_Then there was Gerard. Holy shit. The long red hair was completely gone, and instead it was really short and dyed pure white. His face looked different with that extremely short white hair, bonier and paler. The alternative universe-Gerard turned his head towards him and stared, his gloved hands clasped together. Then his eyes wandered and when Frank followed them, he was left breathless._

_It was him._

_He could recognize himself, of course he could, and even though his black hair was cut short and he looked a little bit younger, Frank knew that was him. In another reality. And it was a moment of de-characterization that hit Frank so hard he started wondering if he was... Him, if that was his body._

_If he was the real him, what if the other he, the one in the parade was the real one and Frank was just an intruder, the copy. It made his head spin around wildly, until Gerard spoke with his melodic voice, offering him a gloved hand._

_"Join us, Frank. Join the Black Parade."_

_"Wh-where are you going? What is this place?" Frank stuttered, not sure if he trusted undead-Gerard._

_"Just a shortcut." he answered. "To the End, we're going to the End."_

_Well they weren't getting to the End any time soon at the speed they had. Frank didn't like the sound of this End thing. He didn't want to go with the alter egos of his friends. Of his lover. Of himself._

_"I think I'll pass." he said, backing away slowly. That only made a glimpse of confusion appear in Gerard's serious expression. He saw a tiny meddal appear from thin air in his hands, and it felt heavy and cold. A meddal like Mikey's and Ray's. Frank wasn't sure about what that meant, but it couldn't be anything good._

_"Join." Gerard commanded, motioning to short haired Frank, who just stood still like a statue. Waiting for Frank to approach and pin the meddal in that spot that now appeared so empty._

_"Why don't you have a meddal?" Frank asked Gerard, out of curiosity. What was left to lose?_

_"I'll get one too. With time. Soon."_

_He was sure short haired Frank was awesome, but he wasn't getting the meddal. He felt like if he handed it over, he would join the Black Parade and something told him he couldn't get off that ride. And honestly, he didn't feel like spending eternity standing in a slow-ass car._

_Sorry short haired Frank, but no meddal for you. Frank simply turned around and intended to walk away from the road, but he just saw a blinding light, that burned his face and pushed him away._

_"Don't go back." he heard Gerard say. "You're done, come. That's not the way."_

_Despite the incredible force that seemed to reject him, Frank pushed against it and slowly but surely kept getting closer to the weird light. It was already too late for Ray and Mikey, but Frank refused to join them. Not now. He was going to go back to his Way._

_Yeah, definitely._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Agh. That wasn't part of the plan. Blurryface was supposed to be the maximun weapon and a secured victory. And now the guy was lying on the floor, dead. And who knew if Blurryface was dead too. 

Korse walked among the sea of corpses, maybe slowing down when he recognized somebody. There were few dracs left, but the only rebel present was that guy Josh with the pink hair. Blurryface had told him about him. How he was a potential threat. 

But now he just saw a guy holding his lover in his arms, staring at his cold dead body, deeply broken. Korse actually felt a little sorry for him. And he would let him live, if he could. But he had learned the hard way what happened when you hurt someone a rebel cared about. It often led to a unstoppable desire for revenge. 

And he couldn't risk it. 

Josh didn't even try to fight it. He saw the gun pointed at him and then moved his eyes to look at Korse. They were empty, begging him to do it. 

At least he would put the guy out of his misery. 

Korse was about to pull the trigger when a sudden noise came to his ears. A buzz-like kind of noise. A sound he had learn to hear, to _feel_ from miles away. Panic took over him and he just turned around and started walking back to where he had come from. 

And Josh? Was left confused, blood soaking his knees and hands. What was he suppose to do now? Just wander around and wait to see what happened? He brushed his fingertips against Tyler's cheek softly, not feeling the warmth of the blood flowing under his skin. 

It felt like hours. Days. Josh growing weaker and weaker. And suddenly, there was a low buzzing sound coming from above. Josh didn't bother to look up. The wind became strong and ruffled his hair around, and some people dressed in dark blue surrounded him quickly. 

One of them tried to reach out to Tyler, and Josh gave him the most murderous look there was, like a slap to the face that said 'touch him and I'll kill you." 

So instead the people softly placed their hands on Josh, and pulled him back slightly. They were trying to separate them. And that was not happening. He hugged Tyler tightly and didn't let go, even if he felt a prick in his neck and then the world started blurring at the edges. 

He fell asleep, feeling like his head was floating. That was the only way to separate them. And even so, the people in dark blue clothing decided to place them both carefully in the same bed, just for a while until they decided what to do. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frank jolted awake and took a deep breath, feeling like he hadn't breathed in a long time. His whole body felt weird, and his head was still spinning. He looked around just to see corpses lying still on the ground. Rebels and Draculoids alike. He propped himself up slowly and saw that he was completely alone. 

He had probably being mistaken for any other dead body. 

While being in his weird death vision gave him a little strength, his leg was still broken. With a grunt, Frank stood up and limped a couple feet before falling again. He was way too tired to limp all the way back to the diner. Even so, he doubted Gerard or any other rebel was there. Being Gerard, the smartest thing to do was to go far away and move constantly. Still, Frank didn't lose hope. 

He started to think. What was the closest place to at least spend the night? None that he could think of. He was literally in the middle of the desert. Could he spend the night there? He doubted it. Maybe he could use the warmth left on some bodies. It was sick, yes, but he had almost died, he wasn't going to go join the Black Parade because he froze to death. 

Come to think of it, why was he alive? _how_ was he alive? Frank was pretty sure some drac shot him in the chest, then why was his heart still beating? 

Why had he been able to defy death? 

Frank was crawling with his arms while trying to figure something out, when he saw a delicate figure standing in the distance. The wind made her dress swirl around her, and the she turned her head and smiled at him. Was it that woman Blurryface had talked to? Had she done something to him?

He didn't have time to ask since she disappeared, like the wind destroying a sand statue. Frank rested his head on the sand and breathed deeply. Now what? 

"Hey, pal." a voice said suddenly. "You still alive?"

Frank rolled over to lie on his back and saw a young guy, with messy dark blue hair. His eyes, there was something weirdly beautiful about them. They seemed to be a diamond that reflected light in different colors. Still, they had a permanent blueish color around the pupils. 

He was walking around with a teen, who had messy brown hair and blue eyes. He was carefully looking at the corpses while the older one walked towards Frank and crouched beside him. His weird color-changing eyes were kind when he asked:

"Are you hurt?"

Who was this guy? Why was he being so nice to him? But there was no time for questions. That guy was his only chance of surviving. 

"Yeah, my leg..."

"It doesn't look too good." he said, and Frank noticed he had a backpack which he opened and searched for something. "Looks broken."

"It is." Frank said, as the guy spread some oilment on his shin, that made it numb in seconds. 

"I think both the tibia and fibula are broken..." the guy whispered to himself, and then said: "We'll need to take you to the base, so you can get better. There's plenty of supplies there, and maybe you can contact someone..."

"Oh my God." the teen exclaimed, looking at Frank. "You're Fun Ghoul." That made the older guy stare at him as well. 

"I am." 

"It's Party okay?" the guy asked, concern present in his voice. Did he know him somehow?

"He's fine, he managed to escape." that seemed to make him relax a little bit. 

"Glad someone got out of this madness."

"I'm sorry, I appreciate this that you're doing, but who are you?" Frank asked. The guy smiled and pointed at the teen.

"My brother over there is Crimson Clovers. And my name is Dark Spades."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Although the Youngbloods had called him, Gerard had gone in a completely different direction. He didn't want to go into the diner, and see it was completely empty. 

He took his mask off and felt his wounds throb angrily at the movement. He was tired and sweating, but still walked slowly alongside the road. He was dragging his feet and his sight kept going in and out of focus. It was incredibly hard to breathe. 

Because he was alone. He hadn't felt alone in years. He didn't like the feeling being back. Gerard was a head, without the limbs. Worth nothing. He realized this while walking all bloodied and beaten up through the desert. The three people he cared about, he loved and would have given his life for a thousand times, were gone. Banished. Ghosted. Alive only in his memories. 

He thought losing Mikey and Ray was devastating. He didn't think he could feel anymore pain. Which was sometimes comforting, like it couldn't get worse than that. And it did. The last, fragile piece was ripped out of his chest. And there was nothing left. 

Nothing to fight for. He was just a man, he wasn't a hero. The revolution could and would go on without him. Gerard thought he would live to see his people free from BL/ind. He guessed it was a very long shot. Too good of an ending to even be possible. 

Now everything in Gerard was empty. Empty words, empty promises. Ghostly memories, transparent feelings. Nothingness. Without thinking too much about it, he reached for his pocket knife and flipped it open. 

He focused on everything he could, the little actions drowning his thoughts. He focused on walking, placing one foot in front of the other. He stated the obvious. This is a knife. It's sharp. It's cold. 

With a slow motion, he slit the skin of his wrist with the blade, welcoming the stinging pain. With a little more dificulty, he did the same on his other wrist. He felt the blood start to flow down his fingers, and slowly drip into the sand, forming a trail as he walked. A bloodtrail for someone to follow, to find him. 

He didn't feel remorse or anything like that. He wasn't thinking straight. 

Gerard Way finally collapsed onto the hard ground, and curled up into a ball. He closed his eyes. And waited. 

. 

The first thought in his head was:

'Why am I not dead?'

And it pissed him off for a couple of seconds. Couldn't he do anything right? Then he felt softness below him, and fresh sheets thrown on top of him. He wasn't in the desert. He was on a _bed_.

Why was he on bed? 

He opened his eyes slowly and blinked at the artificial light that shone on his face. He looked around just to find himself in a sterile white room. Everything was white. The sheets. The walls. His clothes. Where were his clothes? The ones he was wearing felt weird and loose. 

He was barefooted. His wrists were properly stitched and bandaged. He felt light, like he had been given some sedatives. What he didn't notice at first, was the IV. Connected to his arm and snaking up a tube holding a bag of fluids. He tried not to think of the needle jabbed into his skin, but he had to pull it out when he started feeling dizzy. 

He dropped it and it made an incredibly loud noise. There was a door but no windows, and Gerard didn't have the strength to walk towards it and see where the hell he was. After a while, the door opened. 

A tall, slim woman walked in, her high heels echoing through the room. She had a blue cocktail dress and her jetblack hair was tied in a high and stylish ponytail. Her features were sharp and her dark eyes had a sparkle in them. She looked like a leader. A determined one. If Gerard was into girls, this one would definitely get his attention. 

"I apologize if this has caused you some confusion, Mr Way." she said, her voice calm. 

"Where am I? How do you know my name?" Gerard asked, tensing up visibly. 

The woman just blinked once and said:

"We shall discuss everything that needs to be discussed. That includes me answering to your questions. How about you change into something you're more familiar with? Meet me outside whenever you are ready. But don't take too long, there's a lot to be said."

She pointed at the folded clothes at the edge of the bed, and walked out. 

Gerard was still, very confused. The lady didn't say anything about the hanging IV. What was left to do in some white room? He slowly crawled towards the clothing just to realize it was _his_ clothing. But there was something different about it. 

Oh my God. 

They were _clean_

The fabric didn't smell like him, it had a fresh fragrance on it, like freaking _detergent_. He stared at his jacket in awe, as if it had been reborn. And it had, the dust and general filthyness of years was gone. His clothes had been 'permanently' dusted by the desert and stained with blood, but now they were clean and soft to his skin. 

And still, it felt a little weird. Like his insides had been washed too, and he felt different. Good, but different. God, he wondered if they had showers here. Gerard opened the door and expected sterile white walls, but instead was recieved by an explosion of color. 

The walls had waves and splashes of paint, all colliding into a strangely perfect harmony. Art. The walls were covered in art. Gerard though it was really nice, and made him a little more confident that he wasn't in a bad place. 

The lady was sitting in a red couch, and stood up when Gerard appeared, offering him a sweet smile and motioning for him to follow her. Gerard just stared at the corridors and all the figures plastered in them, which made the lady laugh softly. 

"Glad to see you like our decoration. Believe it or not is a crucial part of our ship."

Ship? 

The woman led him into a business room, filled with a large table and chairs. The walls there still had designs, but they were more delicate and professional. 

"Please, have a seat." 

Gerard was getting anxious by the second, but the lady seemed really calm and elegant with her polished hands intertwined in front of her. 

"Who are you?" Gerard decided to ask the simple questions first. 

"My name is Ashlynne Hansen, and I'm Head of the Special Industry of Guidance for Heart and Talent. S.I.G.H.T for short. And you are Gerard Way, leader of the Killjoys and Head of the Desert Revolution."

"How do you know my name?" Gerard asked, his paranoia kicking in. "Special Industry?"

"I see you want all the answers at once." she said, a smile curving her pink lips. "We know your name, it's in the records and we have clear access to them, which means, we have your past in our hands. What we are missing, is your present. Your alias, that has become a synonym of hope and that echoes throughout all the Zones, is unknown to us. But before I tell you about us, I want to ask you something. You, Gerard Way, one of the most if not the greatest insurgent out there, what are you fighting for?"

Good question. The first thing you learned as a rebel wasn't how to fight, or how to shoot. It was the answer to that question. Because if you didn't know, it was all meaningless. So every rebel knew how to answer that question. 

"I fight for my right of being who I want to be. Not who they want me to be."

Ashlynne smiled widely, and nodded. 

"We started out as a clandestine organization, right after the Helium Wars. Since then, we have been working to grow bigger. Now I'm in command, and I'm in charge of the next course of action to take BL/ind down..."

"Wait." Gerard said before she could continue. "You fight against BL/ind?"

"Don't we all?" she said. "We believe this world can be taken back. I think we can get what's ours, as you say, our right to be in control of our lives. And then build something better from the ashes. We believe in people, in what they are capable of doing if they follow their heart and execute their talents."

Gerard nodded along, encouraging her to continue. He was actually interested in the whole scenario placed before him. 

"And the first base of our new civilization, is what the old one lacks."

"Art." Gerard completed, and that pleased Ashlynne. 

"Exactly. We've been hidden for a long time, but the battle that took place today was the wake up call we needed. I think it's time. We've been flying around all the roads throughout all the Zones, picking up the wounded and any survivor we can. I believe you rebels have a stronger spirit, with all you've been through. But here they'll have the best treatment there is, for both their body and mind."

"Wait did you say flying?"

"Did you listen to all the other things I said? Yes, flying. This is a flying ship. I thought that with the giant windows you'd figure that out."

Windows? Gerard hadn't even seen them. Big glass pannels behind Ashlynne revealed that they were, indeed, flying. He tried not to get sick, but the thought of not having his feet on solid ground made him a little dizzy. 

"Now, Gerard, I need to ask you if you are willing to work with us. We will not force anyone to stay. If you say you want to be dropped, we will drop you." 

"Of course I want to work with you." Gerard said, ignoring how the word 'drop' made his stomach twist. "But I have some requests."

Ashlynne smiled and put her fingertips together, leaning back into her chair. 

"I like how you think. You are clearly a leader. Now tell me, what is it that you ask for?"

"The Youngbloods. I want them safely on board." he said, looking at Ashlynne directly in the eyes. 

"Already working on it. Most of the rebels we're looking for are on the run. But I assure you, we'll find them." 

"The leader, American Phoenix, is currently being held captive in a BL/ind base, I want you to get him out."

That made Ashlynne go silent. It was evident that Gerard was using her to fix and mend everything he could. Gerard knew she was considering how dangerous it would be, to risk losing lots of people for one guy. But Gerard here was a very important piece, and she needed to have him in her chess. 

"Okay. We'll figure something to get him back. Anything else?"

"You said you collected every survivor from the battle, correct?"

"If they were alive in the field, I'm sure they're here."

"Good. Now, there is a whole underground system full of rebels. I want them on board as well. Specially a guy named Dark Spades, his two siblings and every other person under his care. Do all this and I'll stay with you, let you guide my heart and explote my talent."

"Then it shall be done."

Gerard let himself smile, and thought the little reunion was over. But Ashlynne had another question for him.

"Why did you slit your wrists, Gerard?"

And just like that, everything fell apart. He started feeling everything at once, making him grunt in pain. Frank. Frank was gone. Dead. As well as every other member of his group. He remembered he was empty, that life had sucked every last hope out of him. 

"I lost my whole family." he whispered, and yet Ashlynne was able to hear him. "I didn't think it was worth it anymore, to keep fighting."

"We found you lying on the desert. Dehydrated and bleeding out. And we decided to save you. Tell me, Gerard, was that a mistake?"

"No." he answered, still feeling pain in his chest but remembering Frank's last words to him. "I tried to give up, but I promised I would fight. For them. And I'm not going to fall back."

"Very well. Tell me, Gerard, are you Party Poison?"

'Yes, I am' he would have answered some time ago. But now? He knew Party Poison was gone. He had been slowly disappearing with each death, being incomplete until there was nothing left. Without Kobra Kid, Jet Star and Fun Ghoul, Gerard Way was no longer Party Poison. He felt like a stranger, a foreign figure that wasn't sure where to go or what to do. The path was right in front of him, but he chose to wait, to proceed with caution even though it was perfectly safe... 

"No." Gerard said finally. "I'm Hesitant Alien."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> I'm so so sorry this took sooo long to be done, but I finally finished.  
> I want to thank you all for your kudos, and honestly seeing your comments always cheered me up even when Blurryface was being specially hard, so thank you thank you thank you so much for your support and your kind words <3  
> Well, good news is, there's going to be a sequel to this work :)  
> I might take a little break before starting with the new work, to plan everything out and keep giving you guys a good story. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this journey as much as I did writing it, love you all <3


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